An Earlier Heaven
by BlueAsphodel
Summary: Everybody dreams of second chances. But this was something so impossible, so insane, so unreal - she couldn't have dared to dream it up. Reborn into the (previously fictional) world of Harry Potter, Lyra Addison is determined to not change a thing- that is until she runs into a 6 year old Harry Potter. OC-SI.
1. Chapter 1-4

**Disclaimer**- I don't own Harry Potter… no really- I'm supposed to let you know that.

**Prologue**

_A happy family is but an earlier heaven.__- George Bernard Shaw_

**Lyra's POV**

The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was my mother's face- tired, resigned and guilty all at the same time.

Have you ever heard what they say about people that have suffered too much. People that the world has put through crap time and time again. They say that eventually those people give up hope

That's a lie.

You never give up hope. You never stop praying. No matter how many times your prayers go unanswered. Because sometimes praying is all you can do.

CRACK!

The sound of the whiplash echoed in my mind. Funnily enough the last delirious thought I had before I passed out from the pain was- _'That sounds like the closing note …'_

When I finally woke up- my prayers had, at long last, been answered… not that I knew that then.

**London-March-30-1980 **  
**Age 0**

Opening my eyes the first thing I noticed was I couldn't see _anything_. Everything in front of me was a washed out blur. I couldn't move either. A mild panic began to set in- it had never been this bad before. Had I received permanent brain damage this time? Then I smelled it- the disinfectant, medical smell that was ever present in hospitals. So I was in a hospital then. How did I get here? Who would bring me here? It couldn't have been my parent. They had never cared before, they wouldn't start now. Or maybe _he_ had finally gone too far this time- and they had no choice. Maybe the neighbors finally woke up and called social services…Or maybe-

I would have gone on and on with my speculations if at that moment I hadn't been lifted into the air, by what felt like a giant's hands. Startled I did the only thing I could – I screamed.

Or at least, I tried to. It came out sounding more like a cross between a whimper, a sob and a gurgle.

"Would you look at that! My beautiful baby girl…" Came a soft soothing voice (too gentle to be my father's) and I calmed down a bit… That is until the words sunk in. I flailed around in my blanket (_blanket-_HOW had I not noticed that before?!) to look at this man who claimed I was his baby girl.

All I could make out was that he was tall (which really wasn't much of a conclusion since I was apparently a BABY) he had really pale skin and light hair.

The man, my self-proclaimed father looked up to someone who was behind me and said "She's _perfect_".

If I wasn't convinced of it so far- those words did it for me. I was dreaming. He had said those words with such warmth and sincerity that I was sure it couldn't have been real. There was so much love in his voice. It couldn't be for me. I had done nothing to deserve it.

"She is, isn't she?" came a light feminine voice from behind me. "Well? You won the bet- it's a girl. What are you going to name her?" She asked him. I tried to turn around to see her. This woman- my dream mother, but the best I could do was wriggle around in my blanket a bit.

My _'father' _thankfully decided right then to take me to her. He moved me into her arm saying "Lyra".

I looked up to see a cascade of dark curly hair- and from some inborn instinct or fascination I reached up to play with it.

"You want to name her after a constellation? " She asked. Her tone was the oddest mix of surprise nostalgia and sadness.

"You don't like it?" he sounded uncertain.

"Oh, no! I love it… It's perfect. Lyra Addison… it's a beautiful name" She assured him.

She looked down at me then and I could vaguely make out the light grey of her eyes.

"Lyra"…There it was again. Love, so deep, so strong, I was surprised it wasn't visibly painted in the air between us.

How could I dream up love as pure as this… when I never knew it existed to begin with? That was my last thought as I drifted off to sleep in the warmth of my mother's arms.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Impossible Reality**

**London-June-1980**  
**Age 0.2**

**Lyra's POV**

It's been two months since the _'dream'_ started. I don't know what to believe anymore. The wind on my face right now feels as real as it's ever felt. I can hear sounds and smell scents as clearly as I would if I were awake. The only conclusion I can draw is that I _died, _and as insane as it sounds- I've been reincarnated, with all the memories of my previous life.

My sight has been getting better- I can almost see mum and dad clearly now. They make a really beautiful couple. From the few conversations I've heard, I've managed to piece together what I could of their lives. He is Dr. David Addison, a renowned Oncologist and most loving father that ever was (of course I could be biased- and if I'm being honest I don't really have any other loving fathers in memory that I can compare him to). His job is pretty demanding, so sometimes he has to leave us to go to work at odd times of the day. What he lacks in free time, he more than makes up for in pure devotion. He spends hours on end by my cot, playing with me, singing to me or reading children's stories that he doesn't know I understand. The reason for that last one became clearer when I managed to make out my mother's name on the cover of one of the books- Allena Addison nee Noir a best-selling children's book author.

Mother is… strange, for the lack of a better word. You could be polite and call her eccentric. She spends most of her day taking care of me- which isn't really hard work at all, considering how little I fuss. And every spare minute she gets, she is decorating and re-decorating our home with whatever she happens to find fascinating at the moment. Last week it was sea shells, today it's apparently-

"Rocks! What do you think Lye does this look good here?"

I gave her the most deadpan glare my 2 month old face could manage.

"Of course it does… and I'm going to put some here…and here… and here"

The thing is, if I'm being completely honest… that really does look good.

**London-April-1983**  
**Age-3**

**Allena's POV**

I had always loved children, and I had always known that thing I wanted most in the world was a child of my own. Despite the fact that my own family had disowned me while I was still young, I always knew there was nothing more important than family.

The fact that I hadn't been completely honest with David about my past was constantly eating away at my soul. I had almost told him once- The day our precious Lyra was born. The minute I held her in my arms for the first time, I knew she was special. I should have told him then, what I was. What our daughter could and most likely would be. But then he said her name. For a moment I thought he knew, and then the moment passed and I realized it was just a coincidence. No, not coincidence- it was fate. This was who she was meant to be.

As she grew older I realized she was even more special than I gave her credit for. She was sitting up on her own at 3 months. Her fist words (_'mama' _to my everlasting joy) came when she was 6 months old. She could understand everything we said to her long before that. By the time she was a year old, she was toddling around the house sometimes on both her feet and sometimes on all fours, speaking in full sentences, with only the slightest hint of a lisp. At two we found out, much to our surprise, she could already read. A '_prodigy'_ David called her with the proudest smile on his face.

My only concern was that my baby girl would never get to be a child. Everybody deserved a childhood filled with laughter that they could look back on with a smile on their faces. I know this because I never had it, neither did David. We wanted our child to have every bit of happiness that we missed out on and then some. So we would drag her kicking and screaming to the pool and splash around until she joined in reluctant, but smiling.

Today was a bright sunshiny day. Lyra had turned 3 just a week ago, and she had her first ever big Birthday party, with all the neighborhoods' families and David's friend's from the hospital. ( Her previous two, having been family-only events. And seeing as how neither David nor I had any family to speak of- it was just us three).

We were all out in the sun by the pool, enjoying David's rare day off from work. Lyra of course, was reading. And then it happened. The moment I had been dreading since the day I first held her. David walked over to Lyra with some iced-tea for her to drink, and he tripped over a broken tile on the floor and the tea went flying towards Lyra.

"NO!" she only had time to shout out that one word before my world collapsed on itself. Inches away from the fragile pages of her book the tea froze mid-air. Just like that. Her first bit of accidental magic.

* * *

**Chapter 2: The Magic Word**

**London-April-1983**  
**Age 3**

**Lyra's POV**

It just… It just stopped. It …I … what just happened? I couldn't even form coherent words to ask. I looked up see my father in a similar state of shock and denial.

"Honey… Am I hallucinating, or did that really just happen?" He asked my mother without looking away from the pint of ice tea that was currently defying all laws of physics. At those words, as if the spell holding it there was broken (I would later look back and see the irony of this thought) the ice tea splashed down drenching both me and my poor innocent, blameless book (yes I was, and am a bibliophile, so sue me!).

"No dear, you're just fine… but there's something we need to talk about", she said. I looked up at those unexpected words to see her looking at me… somewhere between sad, fond and so solemn (I absently noted that this look didn't suit her at all- I'd much rather see that goofy smile she does so often and so well) , but not an ounce of the surprise or shock I would have expected. I mean, how would you react if you saw your daughter pull a Matilda like that?!

"Something we need to… you're not surprised?" He asked. His expression never having wavered from the disbelieving incredulousness it held. She just warily shook her head. "And I'm not asleep?"

"No David, you're very much awake, and … I've been expecting this for some time now"

It was my turn to look at her with all the skepticism my mini toddler features could muster. "You've been expecting the beverages to defy gravity for a while now then?" I asked. At those words some of the tenseness in the atmosphere loosened up and she cracked a smile.

"Well something like that…" She closed the distance between us and knelt down so she could look me in the eye, and then in the most serious voice I've ever heard her use she said to me, "You're a witch, Lyra".

And I had just started to accept this reality too.

My brain must have still been in a state of shock, I could make little sense of the explanation that followed, the more she said the less I understood. My mother explained to me how she was from a family of witches and wizards, how she had been abandoned by them when she was 11, and they knew for sure she had been born without magic. How she was left at an orphanage to fend for herself. How it hurt so much to even think about the family that had left her that she changed her name and refused to speak of them to anyone… even David.

My father listened to her explanation in silence. Several times it looked as though he would interrupt, but the expression on her face was sadder than either of us had ever seen it before. It must have told him, as surely as it told me that she was dead serious.

I considered for a moment the fact that she could be joking- because this was so beyond the realm of possibilities… and then I remembered it was 1983… the Harry Potter series was most definitely not out yet. So either my mother was a friend of J.K. Rowling, who inspired some of her brilliant ideas … or the less likely possibility- she was telling the truth.

Unfortunately, the (moving)picture of her family that she produced out of her locked cupboard in the attic, proved once and for all that yes, magic was very much real, and yes, I was very much screwed.

Before she was Allena Addison, and even before she was Allena Noir she was Alhena Black. The squib daughter of Orion and Walburga Black. The elder sister of Sirius and Regulus Black.

Would you really be surprised if I told you I fainted?

* * *

**Chapter 3-Family**

"___Family means no one gets left behind_ _or forgotten." - David Ogden Stiers (Lilo and Stitch)_

**London-May-1986**  
**Age 6**

**David's POV**

In a single day, everything I thought I knew about my wife, about my child, hell even about my world, had changed. Maybe changed was the wrong word- more like it had grown, to include a whole new dimension-Magic .

I had spent my whole life playing a balancing act with science and faith, and that one word had blown it all away. There were people out there that could make you sick or heal you with the wave of a stick. A _wooden_ STICK. _That_ was the most powerful weapon in world. And it was handed over to _11 year olds_ like it was candy.

I had spent the next few days talking to Allena (should I still call her that? Or should it be Alhena now) about this new world. She told me of their strange separate government, their currency, the Statuette of secrecy, their standards and methods of schooling. She did her best to answer my questions, but there was only so much she could tell me. She had been rejected cruelly and completely by this world, and she had lost all contact from everyone in it at the tender age of 11. She hadn't received any in-depth magical education, and the little she knowledge she had had rusted with time and disuse.

I could see how much it pained her to speak of her family. But I needed to know. I couldn't let my daughter go into a world that was so backwards and bigoted that they would reject their own flesh and blood for power. The more she spoke of it, the worse I felt. Purebloods, half-bloods, muggleborns, squibs, memory charms, Hogwarts… Dark Lords, magical wars fought over _'blood supremacy'_. I had never felt so scared or so helpless before. If those people… those wizards… came to our home and decided to drag our daughter away- there would be literally nothing we could do about it. Hell, we might not even remember she existed the next morning.

The day after we had that conversation I went and bought a gun. That night was the first time we had a fight. Allena accused me of being paranoid and prejudiced. I accused her of being a liar that put my family in danger. The words left my mouth before I realized what I was saying. The shock and horror on her face at hearing me say that was enough to put me on my knees, begging for forgiveness.

"I didn't mean it"

"I know", She seemed so exhausted.

"I'm sorry"

"I know"

"I'll return the gun…"

"No, don't… you were right, we need to be able to defend ourselves if something happens", She said that, but I could see in her eyes that she didn't mean it. She was saying this so that I could rest easy, knowing I wasn't completely defenseless. She herself would be incapable of hurting someone no matter what their crime. She forgot too readily and forgave too easily. It was something I had always loved about her.

That was all the reminder I needed. I walked over to her and hugged her as tightly as I could. She leaned into my embrace with ease that came with years of love and marriage and rested her head on my shoulder. I breathed in the scent of her, like jasmines. She always smelled like jasmines.

"I love you", I had said those words before, but this was the first time I said them not just because I _wanted to_, but because I _had to_. I had to let her know that no matter what- that at least had not changed, it never would.

She of course understood exactly what I was trying so desperately to tell her even without the words. She leaned back slightly so she could look me in the face with that beautiful smile and said "I know".

It's been three years since then … And we've all gotten on with our lives. Allena and I agreed on one thing at least- we didn't want Lyra to garner too much attention. It could be dangerous for her, specially given how often her bursts of accidental magic came ever since she became aware of magic. She was already a child genius. If anyone looked too closely they would risk bringing the attention of the magic government on her. Lyra would have to be home schooled. She didn't seem to mind. In fact she seemed to prefer it this way. She didn't get along very well with children her own age. It was to be expected I suppose. After all if she were with children her physical age- they would ostracize her for being different. And if she were with peers of her mental age, they would ostracize her for being too young. She was different, and she accepted that with a grace that you wouldn't find in those twice or even thrice her age.

But even with home schooling- it was hard to keep her talent hidden from people, specially in a place as crowded as London. After all, it's not like we could hide her away from the world. Eventually after a close call involving a floating cake, a local bully and an exploding candle at a birthday party in the neighborhood we decided to move somewhere less … populated.

Once the transfer was completed I came home to the family with the good news.

"We're _moving!_", Said Lyra sounding as distressed as I'd ever heard her.

"Sweetheart, you'll love the new place… It's much less crowded, and we'll have a huge backyard" I tried to be as gentle about it as I could.

"But… but do they have library where we're going!"

Of course… that's what the reluctance was about. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and I could swear I heard Allena smother a snicker.

"Yes sweety… I'm sure they have an excellent library down in Surrey"

"Surrey?" She said in an oddly flat voice. Her face had gone completely pale.

"Yes Lyra dear, that's where we'll be moving to… Number 7 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey… Honey are you okay, you look a bit pale…"


	2. Chapter 5-7

**Disclaimer**- I don't own Harry Potter… no really- I'm supposed to let you know that.

**Chapter 5- Starting Something**

**Surrey-June-1986  
Age 6**

Nothing that is can pause or stay;

The moon will wax, the moon will wane,

The mist and cloud will turn to rain,

The rain to mist and cloud again.

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

**Lyra's POV**

Privet Drive was so much more and so much less than I thought it would be. The homes were as monotonous as I had expected them to be, but the people kept surprising me. My father had never struggled with being social before, and he didn't now. He easily got along with everyone here- even to my incredulous surprise- Vernon Dursley. I suppose being a well respected doctor had its perks.

I had thought my mother's eccentricities would be looked down upon and sneered at. I could not have been more wrong. The people here loved her chaotic nature. A breath of fresh air they called her. Several even enlisted her help for redecorating their homes once they saw what she had done to our place.

The one person who did not seem to be perfectly happy with our presence was Petunia Dursley. As ridiculous as it sounds-I was excited to see her. She was the first of the (previously fictional) people that I had read about that I got to meet. And she was the final proof I needed to prove to myself that I wasn't delusional. If she was real-odds had just gone up on the bet that the rest of the story was real too.

Petunia was all smiles and eager eyes looking for gossip when she showed up at our doorstep, minutes after we had walked into our new home. The second she saw my mother however, the smile dropped from her face, along with every little bit of color that she had. She looked like she had seen a ghost. I thought back to everything I knew about this story, had Petunia ever met Sirius? It seemed likely if her reaction was anything to go by. I knew my mother held a very strong resemblance to her brothers. Could Petunia see Sirius in my mother's features? Eventually I had to conclude that it might simply have been jealousy. Because Petunia was jealous of my mother, of that I had no doubt. It was as obvious as the fact that her _'Precious Dudders' _was the most obese 5-soon-to-be-6 year old in existence.

I had already sworn to myself that I would not change _anything_ in the story. Yes there was a lot of suffering that I could prevent if I wanted to. But the consequences? What if by saving one life I was dooming another? There was so much I desperately wanted to change. I really didn't want to let Sirius die , specially not after finding out that he's my UNCLE (Can I just take a moment to fangirl about the fact that one of _the _MARAUDERS is _related _to _ME… _okay-moment over), but what if saving him meant somewhere down the line Harry dies or fails to beat Voldemort in the final battle?

So as I sat there in the bushes observing (_stalking_ some part of me whispered) the green-eyed protagonist of the story, I was sure it was just because I was curious. And no it had absolutely nothing to do with how adorable he looked in those baggy clothes and those big round glasses that kept sliding down his little button nose... For some reason this scene felt awfully familiar… Oh-My-God! This was Snape and Lily- in reverse!

The more I watched him though, the more my heart broke. He wasn't even _six_ yet. Watching him slave away in the sun…trying so hard.

It reminded me of myself. In a previous life, one where I had suffered as he did now, trying so hard to please, but it was never enough. In a _family-_ if I can call them that- where grades and reputation meant more than warmth and affection. And the only _reward_ was that maybe, just maybe, if you did good enough, you would be spared your father's wrath today…

A buzzing sound broke me out of my reverie … was that a? Yes, yes it was… A bee. Before you laugh, have you ever been stung by one of these suckers? No? Let me tell you something about bee stings- they HURT. I did my best to silently swat it away before it could come close enough to hurt me. And before I knew it I was falling backwards on my arse, and I couldn't stop the startled "Eeep!" that escaped me.

Silence.

Maybe there was still hope… maybe he hadn't heard me.

"Hello?"

Drat it all! What now? I could get up and let him know I was there (in more ways than one). After all it's not like getting to know me will change the world, right?... On second thoughts, I could always just lie here and pretend I didn't exist and pray to God he didn't come over to investigate…

**Surrey-June-1986  
Age 6**

**Harry's POV**

Aunt Petunia was angry. She was always angry, but today she was really, really angry. I could hear her shouting to Uncle Vernon about something all the way from the backyard I was weeding. I wondered for a moment if I should keep going or stop. Aunt Petunia never gave me dinner when she was in a bad mood anyway. Then again… it would just make things worse if I didn't do my chores.

I took a deep breath and looked up to glare at the sun. Even the weather was being mean to me today. It was the hottest day of all summer. I knew that because I'd heard the weather-man on TV say so, before Dudley found the remote and started smashing it until it changed to the cartoons channel… That he was still watching…inside…away from the heat… probably with another tub of ice-cream in his lap.

The shouting got worse… I could make out some of the words now- _'…the nerve of that…how dare she…those FREAKS'_ . That last word caught my attention. So she was ranting about the new neighbors again.

The Addisons.

They had moved into the house three doors away from the Dursley's. Aunt Petunia had left with a pie the second she saw the moving company's truck… but she had come back looking really mad, and she wouldn't say why. A few days later I saw their house had been repainted… into a hundred different shades of blue. That was the first time Aunt Petunia called them that- Freaks. I remember that because for a moment I thought that must mean they were like me. But I wasn't too sure about that now.

Mrs. Addison was a really pretty lady. She had come by once with some cookies she baked, to thank Aunt Petunia for the pie. And Aunt Petunia had that smile on her face. The one that she got whenever anyone tells her I'm such a polite little boy. And they talked for a little while. Before she left she smiled at me and gave me one of the cookies from her basket. I had only seen Mr. Addison once a few days after they moved in. He had come to call on Uncle Vernon, to invite him for some golf thingy he was planning with some of the neighbors. He had smiled at me too.

Uncle Vernon didn't seem to mind them; neither did any of the other neighbors, which is why I didn't think they were like me. If they were I'm sure Uncle Vernon would have hated them too.

"Eeep!"

What was that? THUD. It sounded like someone falling over. I looked around but I couldn't see anyone. "Hello?" I called out, hoping I had just imagined it… and then I saw something move behind the hedges. I started to back away… scared it may be a stray animal of some kind.

And that was the first time I saw her. She came out of the bushes with a sheepish smile on her face- the kind you get when you're caught with your hand in the cookie jar before dinner (at least that's how they look on TV, I wasn't sure because Dudley never had to sneak to eat whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, and I'd be too terrified of being caught to smile). She looked so much like her mother that I already knew who she was before she told me her name. "Hi there… I'm Lyra Addison… what's your name?"

**Chapter 6- Inevitable **

**Surrey-June-1986  
Age 6**

**Lyra's POV**

I don't know why I did it, _okay_! I just _did_. Something inside me rebelled at the thought of just leaving him there as I had found him. It was one of those moments where your heart and your mind want two different things and because you can't seem to be able to choose, your body makes the decision for you. And so before I could tell myself (again) that I was dooming the world, I introduced myself to the boy whom I knew I knew better than himself. And before I had time to feel any regret over my actions – he smiled at me, with the shyest, sweetest smile (I hadn't know children with childhoods like his could smile like that) and said in a voice so soft I had to strain myself to hear it "…I'm Harry".

And just like that, the house of cards that the future was supposed to be _collapsed_. Right then and there I made the most irrational decision of my life.

"Do you want to be friends?"I asked with what little awkward social grace I had.

"You want to be friends… with _me?!_"

There was so much shock in his voice that it physically pained me. If I had it my way (and I WOULD) he will never suffer the fate he was meant for. Not this child that reminded me so much of myself and yet was so much better than I had ever been capable of being. He didn't deserve his future, Hell! He didn't deserve his present.

"Yes Harry… I want to be friends with you"

If I'm going to do this- I'm going to need a plan.

**Surrey-June-1986  
Age 6**

**Allena's POV**

"A _Seer_?" I couldn't hold back the shock in my voice at her question.

"No, Lye, there weren't any Seers in the Black family… at least none that I knew of. Why are you asking me this?" I said, although if I'm being honest I thing I already knew the answer.

"Because I think I am one" She said. Her voice was careful, like she had planned out exactly what to say. I felt a pang in my heart. Was she afraid I wouldn't accept her if she told me this? I went over and gave her a hug. "Okay, that's okay sweety. Now can you tell me why you think you're a Seer?". Guilt flashed in her face for a second before it was gone.

"I had a vision today" she said, her voice as flat as her expression.

"Can you tell me what it was?" I couldn't hide my concern if I tried. Seers were rare… very rare. Hallucinations were a lot more common, especially in the Black family. I didn't want to doubt her, but the odds of it being a real vision were…

"I saw that you and Daddy got really angry with the Dursley's, because they were keeping Harry in a cupboard and not feeding him properly. So you called the police and they took Harry away…", So far it didn't seem likely that it was a true vision. The Dursley's wouldn't do that to Harry would they? Sure they seemed a little uptight, specially Petunia… but what Lyra was describing was outright child abuse. Even as I tried to deny it, I remembered Harry's face. Thin… too thin some would say. It was even more obvious next to his cousin. I didn't want to judge, but Petunia really did let her child get away with too much.

"But then he came back… and this time there was someone with him… a really old man with a long white beard and he called himself Dumbledore…"

At those words I could feel the blood leave my face. I had never told her about Albus Dumbledore. I hadn't told David about him either. There hadn't been any need to. He was just another name in a sea of names and faces that I had left behind.

There was no way for her to know about the Hogwarts Headmaster… unless this vision was real.

"And then … he waved his wand and said 'Obliviate' … and then you and Daddy didn't remember anything about Harry anymore", And with that she broke down crying.

If I hadn't been scared before, I was now.

* * *

**Chapter 7- Pictures on the wall**

**Surrey-March-1990  
Age 10**

**Lyra's POV**

It had worked. I still can't believe it actually worked. The very next day mum had gone over to the Dursley's to ask if it was okay for Harry to come over for dinner. I'm sure there was a lot more she wanted to say to them… and a lot less politely. But she knew she had to be careful. It was either help him subtly or don't help him at all.

Dad had taken the news of me being a Seer surprisingly well. After a brief pause he turned to me and said, "I don't suppose you would know which companies I should invest in would you?" He had meant it as a joke, but that got me thinking… I really _did_ know which recently formed companies would go on to be the next big thing. Who knew trivia like that could actually be _useful_? … So after that point, all of Dads investments started sky-rocketing. In fact he made so much of a profit that he could stop working if he wanted to, but of course- he actually _liked_ his job. It was the kind of work that made a difference in the world.

In the beginning Dad had been reluctant to get involved with Harry's home life. But after the first time he came over, that changed.

"Is this all for me?" Harry said, staring at his dinner plate.

I could see my parents exchange knowing looks from the corner of my eyes.

"Yup… It's all for you, and if you don't eat it all, I'm going to get taller and stronger and you'll be stuck as a scrawny, specky git forever!" … I had always wanted to steal one of the twins' lines.

"No, I won't" He said in that adorably adamant voice, nose scrunched up in mild annoyance. And then he started stuffing himself as fast as he could, determined to finish before me. Ah! So the Gryffindor in him was alive and well. Good to know.

Not that I would let the challenge go unanswered. I speeded through my meal, playing along with the game. I could see the amusement on my parents faces. This was probably the first time they'd seen me act my age.

After that everything between me and Harry was a competition.

I bet I can swing higher than you can.

I bet I can hold my breath longer.

I bet I can run faster.

Before long Harry was issuing as many challenges as I was (for the record it's currently 76-72 in my favor). And with every passing day we grew closer and closer, until we were best friends. The way only six year olds can be. He could keep up with me surprisingly well considering he was 6 and I was 6+15 of another lifetime. He was an intelligent child and he could easily pick up things he had only seen or heard once. He wasn't quite a prodigy. But he was still quite ahead of his age group. I wonder if it was a consequence of having to grow up too fast. With the way he was raised, he must have very strong survival instincts (That explained so much). It was always learn fast or suffer.

I had always been a confused mix of childish instincts and mature understanding. Like- I knew logically that another cone of ice-cream would make me sick, but I still couldn't help but cry when it couldn't have it. Harry brought out the child in me more easily than anyone ever had. And as I started to know him, he finally left the pages of the books and became a real person. Some days I forgot he was Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived. Somewhere between eating contests and pillow fights he had become Just Harry.

And it wasn't just me he was building a relationship with. Over time he had become something of a pseudo son to my parents. From helping my mum in the kitchen to playing catch with dad on the weekends. He had become a part of the family.

Number 4 Privet Drive was his residence in name only. It's the place he went to, to sleep. It was where he spent his time cooking meals and doing odd chores.

His home work was currently sprawling over our coffee table. The books and toys my parents had gifted him over the years were lined up neatly in the spare cupboard of our guest room. There were pictures of Harry and me decorating the living rooms walls- Laughing, playing, sleeping on top of each other after a long, long day of exhausting ourselves. When Mum had put up the first of those Harry had stared at it for a whole minute before he'd started crying. Because he'd understood what she was trying to say. This was his home.


	3. Chapter 8-9

**Disclaimer**- I don't own Harry Potter… no really- I'm supposed to let you know that.

**AN: **Thank You so much to **xenocanaan** and **scoug** for the positive reviews. And Thanks to every one who's Favoring/Following this story. I'm pretty sure you can tell this is my first time writing a story- ever. And I know I make careless mistakes some times. But I'm trying my best. And we've finally...almost... got to the part where the story REALLY starts. Enjoy .

**Chapter 8- Purpose**

**Surrey-January-1991**  
**Age 11**

**Lyra's POV**

I was more powerful than most witches and wizards my age. This isn't arrogance talking, its a fact. My mother may not have had magic of her own, but she had grown up in a magical household. She knew the number of times I had managed to do accidental magic was… _abnormal_. Most children only ever had two or at most three outburst before they began training their magic at 11. After the first time I had done it, I had one every week… and eventually it became every five days, then three and so on, until I was doing something supernatural every other hour.

It had thrilled me at first… Of course it did. I mean come ON; I was doing MAGIC, as in altering reality in ways that most people could only dream off. But it was strong… too strong, and it responded _only_ to my emotions. I could do nothing to control it. If I was angry or afraid, it took on a life of its own. It scared me. And then like a vicious cycle, every time I felt fear it would start again.

Eventually, Mum realized my focus (or rather the lack of it) was the problem. She forced me to go through her yoga exercises with her… and surprisingly it helped. Dad decided to get in on the action. He figured making me repeat some of the things he had seen me do with my magic might help my control (that, and he enjoyed watching me use magic like a little kid would enjoy a circus performance- he even clapped at all the right moments). Eventually, after a few false starts, I could levitate things toward me or away from me, open the door without touching it, change the color of my hair (On an interesting and totally unrelated topic-I also learned how to set my hair on fire). And the more I used my magic consciously, the less need it felt to spill over. It still acted out every now and then (that cake incident in particular is something I don't think my parents are _ever_ going to let me forget). But I could rein it now.

The thing was- _I shouldn't have been able to do that_. As much faith as my mother wanted to have in my abilities, I could see the pride mix with shock and confusion on her face when I succeeded in _wandlessly_ controlling my magic before I was even 8 years old. She was raised to believe that it was impossible. I of course had known otherwise. There was one other who had managed to do what I had.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Difference was, he was born a genius, and I was born with cheat codes. But leaving aside the fact that he was ten times the natural genius I could never be (book smarts didn't count). I couldn't deny the similarity between our levels of power. I had my theories about that of course.

The first and most obvious reason was that my magic was different because _I_ was different. My soul was older than my body. That could have had repercussions on my magic.

The other theory was one I really didn't want to believe- Pureblood propaganda really did get something right. Parentage _could_ affect a witch or wizard's power- just not the way they thought it did. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't deny this theory had merit. Both Voldemort's father and mine were non-magical. His mother was a near Squib born into a long legacy of pureblood wizards. So was mine. And as much as I wanted to hate myself for even thinking it- I couldn't help but muse on the fact that _maybe_ we were more powerful because we were born with the magic that was ours AND the magic that was meant to be our mother's.

I had always hated reading those fanfictions where Voldemort was given a touching back story that supposedly justified his evil way, and then finally he is given a chance to redeem himself. I don't care what you say, nothing justifies what he did. There are some things you just can't come back from. But even as I acknowledged the fact that he was an irredeemable creature with no shred of remorse, a part of me wondered what it would have been like, to go through what I had with my magic without knowing what was happening to me. Without the love and guidance of my parents. Without knowing there were others like me. During the Second World War. In a Catholic home- where my powers would not only be looked at with fear, but outright scorn- the work of the devil. If you were called evil enough times, would you start to believe it?

Ultimately, I had to accept that even though I couldn't forgive him for his actions. I could understand him. Even now I could feel the temptation to believe I was _special_. That I was _chosen _for some reason to be stronger, smarter more powerful than everyone else. The fact that I knew the fates of almost every important player in the story, probably didn't help with the superiority complex that was trying to grab on to me. Every time I bent the world to my will, I felt such a rush of power. I could totally sympathize with what the young Tom Riddle was so high on. But unlike the insane Dark Lord, I had my family to keep me grounded. And of course, there was Harry. Sweet innocent Harry, who made sure once and for all that I wouldn't stray from the straight and narrow.

Not that I had contemplated going evil _before_ I met Harry… well maybe once… or twice. Don't give me that Look, the idea was really temping _okay_! The freedom that comes with power is intoxicating. Knowing you can do anything you want without having to think twice about the repercussions… there was a part of me that had lived with so long in _constant_ fear. The little girl that cowered in the corners of her own home, hoping, praying that she would be ignored. Because the alternative was always mind-numbing pain. How many times had I wished for this? The power to defend myself. The freedom to choose what to do with myself. But once I had that freedom, I had lost my purpose. My life had always been about pleasing my parent. Pushing myself to excel at everything so that I could keep myself safe from my fathers rage. It had been about surviving from the one day to the next.

Here, reborn into a life where I didn't need to do any of that, I was lost. I didn't know what to do with myself… until I found Harry. And then I had a purpose again.

* * *

**Chapter 9- The Letter**

**Surrey-July-1991**  
**Age 11**

**Harry's POV**

When we were 9, I turned my math teacher's hair blue. I didn't know how it had happened, all I can remember was that she was screaming at me for not doing my home work (that Dudley had ripped to shreds). And I remember her calling me names and saying how sorry she was that the Dursley's had to put up with me. (She was a part of Aunt Petunia's book club… I can only imagine the things she must have heard about me). And I remember getting angrier and angrier… until suddenly her hair was blue. Just like that.

I didn't go back the Dursley's straight away. I knew what would be waiting for me there, especially once Petunia got to hear of what had happened. So I went over to the only place I _could_ go.

Lyra took one look at my face and asked "What's wrong?"

Of course she knew I was upset. She always knew.

I didn't quite know what to tell her though. So I said the first words that came to my mind, "I turned Mrs. Henderson's hair blue".

When I said it out loud it sounded so…Stupid. Idiot… why did I have to say that… that was the most moronic thing ever… I couldn't change people's hair colors. Had I even been awake? Was that just a vivid fantasy? Before I could open my mouth and ask her to forget I ever said that- she burst out laughing.

That I did not expect… I'd had a lot of people laugh at me over the years. In my over-sized hand me downs and large ugly glasses, I was an easy target for school yard bullies. Even more so when Dudley was the one leading them. But Lyra had never laughed at me… never. No matter what I did or what I said. This was surprisingly hurtful.

Before I could turn and leave, she grabbed onto my arm and dragged me to her room.

"So? What did you get mad at her for?"

Okay… now I was confused.

"Who said I was mad at her?"

"Well you turned her hair blue didn't you? It must've been for a reason" She said so casually, she could've been discussing the weather.

"You…you _believe_ me?" I asked surprised… I didn't even believe me.

"Of course!" She looked genuinely surprised, like she didn't know why I would think otherwise.

"She said she was sorry the Dursley's had to put up with an ungrateful boy like me…" I tried to hide the pain saying those words brought to me, but when I saw that dark expression cross her face, I knew I had failed. "That flea-ridden, bag of Hippogriff waste! How dare she!"

I knew there was a reason I didn't want to tell her about this. (What's a Hippogriff?)

"Can we skip to the part where you explain how you knew I _changed her hair color_ because I was _angry_"

"Oh, that…" She looked at me considering something, and then nodded to herself.

"You're a wizard Harry"

…Come Again?

After a really long discussion on the state of her sanity (which ended rather abruptly when she started making random objects float around the room). She told me about her mother's past. She told me about a hidden world. She told me about a school of magic.

She told me about the letter that would come.

… I wanted so badly to believe her. But I couldn't. Oh I knew she was magic. She had always been special. But _me_?

So even when I escaped Dudley's gang by somehow teleporting to the roof, I pretended it was the wind that carried me up. Even when the glass window in the reptile house vanished, I screamed to the Dursleys that I didn't know what had happened. I didn't do it! Because it was easier to have no expectations, that way you would never be disappointed. But I didn't have to pretend anymore. Because it was finally here.

_To Mr. H. Potter_  
_The Smallest Bedroom,_  
_No 4, Privet Drive,_  
_Little Whinging, Surrey._


	4. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer-** I don't own Harry Potter… no really- I'm supposed to let you know that.

**AN: **Sorry this took so long… It was written-accidentally deleted-written again-and then finally deprived of internet access. But it's here now so enjoy the double update!

**Chapter 10- Like a Marauder's Niece**

**Surrey-July-31-1991**  
**Age 11**

**Lyra's POV**

In all the years since we had met, I hadn't missed wishing Harry on his birthday once. I wasn't going to start now… After Harry received his letter, like an idiot (his words not mine) he had taken it into the Dursleys' kitchen to read. Obviously, he hadn't gotten beyond one word when the letter had been confiscated. I had let him read mine of course, so he knew what it said. But they didn't know that. So the letter's kept coming, and the Dursley's started running.

I would have been amused, if I wasn't so annoyed at the fact that they had dragged Harry along with them.

It doesn't matter though. It was the 31st of July today, I knew exactly where Harry was, and I would be seeing him soon enough.

My letter from Hogwarts had included instructions to send back a convenient date and time if we required the assistance of a Hogwarts Professor to find our supplies. Mum had been to Diagon Alley before… but that had been decades ago. She had no idea where to even begin looking for the place. So I had sent out today's date, hoping things would go as they had in cannon.

I had honestly thought I would be seeing McGonagall or maybe even Snape. But standing in our doorway was someone I hadn't even thought to consider.

"Pompona Sprout, Hogwarts Herbology Professor, it's a pleasure to meet you!" said the cheerfully plump lady standing in our doorway.

"Lyra Addison, the pleasure is all mine, please come in Professor," I introduced myself, and stepped aside to let her in. "My! How very polite of you!" She said, her voice devoid of any false sincerity, and I couldn't help but blush faintly at the honest praise.

My parents were waiting for us in the Living room, already dressed casually to go out. My father looked like he couldn't decide whether to be apprehensive or excited. My mother on the other hand looked really nervous. I can only imagine what she must be going through right now.

"Can we offer you something to drink? Some tea maybe?" Of course nerves were never going to stop her from being the perfect hostess.

"Tea would be lovely thank you! I must say, I'm rather surprised. Most muggle…err… that is, non-magical parents we meet aren't nearly as courteous" Sprout remarked. "Forgive me for asking, but don't you wish to have some proof of our claims? Of magic? That is generally the first question we are asked"

"Oh, that won't be necessary Professor, You see I'm…I mean I … My parent's were both Magical," My mother managed to stutter out.

An understanding expression dawned on her face. "Oh my! I apologize if I seemed insensitive… But by Merlin I could have sworn you looked familiar. Have we met before? Or maybe I knew your parents?" Sprout asked.

Knew… She was assuming my grandparents were dead. It wasn't a difficult assumption to make. After all, why would we require her assistance to find and enter Diagon Alley if they weren't ? Now that I think about it, I knew for sure that by this point in time Orion Black was dead. Walburga on the other hand died sometime during Sirius's incarceration. She might actually still be alive. Ye Gads!

My mother hesitated with her answer. Then she looked towards me. I don't know what she was looking for, but whatever it was, she must have found it. Her eyes turned from molten silver to hardened steel and she turned to Sprout and said, "I don't know if you _know_ my parents but you may _know off_ them. I'm the eldest child of Orion and Walburga Black"

Silence.

"I see… Well if either of you have any questions about Hogwarts I'll be happy to answer them over tea," Her attempt to change the topic was rather obvious, but it still earned her a grateful smile from my mother.

The trip to the leaky cauldron was uneventful, aside from the rapid fire quiz my father was putting Sprout through. Apparently he had been compiling a list of questions for this day for about 5 years now. Poor Sprout could hardly manage to squeeze out an answer between the incessant questions.

But finally… here we were.

The bricks parted and revealed the sight I had been dreaming off for years now. Except it was so much better than anything I had ever imagined. Diagon Alley was vividly colorful, bustling, loud and (pardon the cliché) Magical. I could see by the expression on my father's face that he completely agreed with me. My mother on the other hand looked like she was holding back tears.

"Thank You Professor Sprout, I can take it from here," She said, her voice showing none of the strain that was evident on her face.

"Are you certain?" Sprout asked worriedly.

"We'll be fine Professor," I replied, I wasn't going to let my mother answer that. Not after the effort it had probably taken for her to say it in the first place. But this was her world; she didn't need to be treated like a tourist, like an outsider. She'd had enough of that in her life already. I was never going to let her feel like that again.

Sprout gave me look I couldn't decipher and then smiled. "Alright then… you take care of your selves now! And with that she turned to leave. But not without a final few words "I hope to see you in my house Miss Addison"

Huh… Hufflepuff? Me? Really? That's one I hadn't considered.

I honestly thought it was a three way tie between all the other houses. Ravenclaw (because in complete honesty, I was a bookworm before anything else), Gryffindor (because I _really_ wanted to go there…that's where all the action was!) and Slytherin (Because I'd be doing a lot of _inevitable_ lying and sneaking around in my time at Hogwarts).

No point thinking about it now… I guess I'll find out with the rest of the world.

* * *

After stopping by Gringotts, I had managed to convince my parents to drop me off at Madam Malkins, while they went and bought me an owl that I could use to keep in touch with them.

Logically, I knew that the chances of me arriving at Madam Malkins at the same time that Harry was meeting Malfoy were really low. For all I knew they had already come and gone hours ago. But curiosity drove me on.

Apparently fate does love me, because the first thing I heard as I stepped into the store was… "Hello, Hogwarts too?" I couldn't see who had spoken… But with that drawling voice I could easily imagine it was…

"Yes," A different voice replied. This one I could have recognized in my sleep.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands, then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." Yes! That could only be one person! I knew exactly what I wanted to do next… I swooped into the room doing my best pseudo-impression of Snape.

"Harry! There you are! I was hoping I would find you around here today"

"Lye!" He said looking shocked for a second before he broke into a wide and somewhat relieved smile.

I know how absurd this sounds, because I had just seen him less than a week ago... but I had missed him.

I run up to him and gave him a hug. "Happy Birthday Harry! I can't wait to show you your present when we get home... trust me you'll love it!"

"You didn't have to..." He started to protest, but then trailed off when he caught the expression on my face.

Meanwhile, Malfoy had been attempting to discreetly(_not_) eavesdrop on our conversation, so I turned to look at him for the first time since I had entered the store.

Oh.

My.

God.

He looked... He looked just like _me_.

If someone saw us right now, standing next to each other- they'd probably assume we were twins! Obviously we had both inherited our features heavily from our mothers. Our eyes were identical as was the shape of our nose. Our skin was the same pale almost white shade. And even though it had _nothing_ to do with our shared Black genetics, we even had the same light blond hair! It wasn't until you looked carefully that you could make out some subtle differences- my features were slightly more rounded...and though at first glance our eyes seemed identical, mine were shaped slightly differently.

Draco must have seen exactly what I did because he was staring at me speechlessly.

Harry meanwhile was looking between me and Draco. By the expression on his face, I could conclude that he had _just_ realized that he had been talking to my doppelganger. He really wasn't the most observant fellow around, was he?

"W-who..." Apparently Draco could be less than a perfect pureblood snob… You only had to shock him into silence.

I had never been much of a prankster, (excluding a few special cases that were for those that had dared to pick on Harry back in Privet Drive) but this opportunity was _Golden_. I had to restrain myself from smirking as I said in the most innocent voice I could manage "Draco! It's been so long! How have you been?"

"Do I know you?" He asked uncertainly.

"Y-You...you don't remember me?" I asked, my voice was wobbly and my eyes looked like they were tearing up. Really, what was I doing here? I was clearly meant for Drama school.

"No!... I mean yes... I mean... I was talking to him!" Draco said in a panicked voice, pointing towards Harry, who, by the way, just looked a little bit lost by this point.

"Oh! Okay then" My face cleared up faster than you can say 'What?!'

"So? How have you been? How's Aunt Cissa?" I asked all sunshine and innocence.

"Fine, I'm fine ... Mother is doing well... and how have _you_ been?" The panic obviously hadn't left him yet and I could see he was desperately trying to figure out just who the hell I was.

"I've been okay, things have been rather busy... but then I'm sure Uncle Lucy's told you all about it"

Draco choked on air.

"Uncle Lucy?" He squeaked.

I don't know how I managed to keep an impassive face right then. Harry's snickering at the name certainly wasn't helping.

"Err... yes, yes he has. Father always tells me everything." He said. I have to admit I was impressed with the bluff. His face barely showed any of his confusion.

As much as I wanted to keep going with the game, it was right then that a giant of a man that could only have been Hagrid appeared at the window holding up the most beautiful snowy white owl.

"Well, we'll see you on the train Drake! Give Aunt Cissa my love!" I dragged Harry out with me without giving Draco a chance to reply.

* * *

It was later when my parents were treating us to ice-cream at Florian's(Best-Ice-Cream-EVER) Parlor that Harry asked me "Who was that boy?"

"Which boy?" I asked distractedly petting my beautiful new barn owl, Flynn. He wasn't as uniquely colored as Hedwig, but he still had a rather nice reddish-brown coloring that reminded me of autumn. Mum and Dad were sitting a few tables away from us, talking to Hagrid, probably about Hogwarts.

"You know... the one at Malkin's"

"Oh him! He's my cousin... or rather my second cousin. His mom is my mom's cousin" I explained.

It took him a minute to wrap his head around that, then - "I thought you hadn't met any of your mother's family?"

"I hadn't ... until today" I said with a smirk.

Harry took a few seconds to catch on... and then he burst out laughing.

"Are you going to tell him?" He managed to ask between bouts of laughter.

"And ruin the fun? No way!" I couldn't help but join him this time.

* * *

**Allena's POV**

I hadn't thought I would ever see this place again. I also hadn't thought it would be this easy to come back. I had half been expecting glares and sneers. To be thrown out and told I didn't belong here. But when the bricks parted- nothing had changed. Diagon Alley was still the same. Still as beautiful and busy as the first time I had been there. No one looked at me twice; no one said an unkind word.

I still remembered so clearly the last time I had been here. I had been 10 years old then. It was Siri's 8th birthday and in a rare show of affection our parents had asked him what he wanted. And he had asked to be taken to Diagon Alley for ice-cream with his family. His request had been as complicated as it had been simple. You see the Black's were an exalted and noble pureblood family. They didn't do anything as pedestrian as ice-cream in Diagon Alley.

So plans were made. The ice-cream parlor was rented, invitations were sent out and the wizarding world's best party decorators were hired. Unexpectedly all the RSVP's were positive. "The entire Black family will be gathering together for the first time in five centuries, and it will be in a _paltry ice-cream parlor_!" Mot- Walburga, had exclaimed sounding somewhat harassed and shooting glares at Sirius as if it were his fault that her greatest coup as a socialite would forever be marred by its common location. More money was thrown to bring the place up to standards, space expansion charms, fountains of wine, a musical choir of Siren. No expense was spared. An extensive seven course meal was planned out (Funnily enough in the all the rush to prepare the menu, the ice-cream was entirely forgotten).

Sirius hated every minute of it. So did the rest of us kids. So cousin Andy (who must have been around 14 at the time) hatched a plan of escape. Despite being so young, she had mastered the Disillusionment spell. With her help some of us, that is, Sirius, Cissa, Bella, Andy and myself managed to escape the party unnoticed.

Andy extracted a promise from us to return in an hour so she could sneak us back in, and then went on her way with Bella. Both of them had already been familiar with the Alley. Meanwhile, Cissa (who had always been my closest friend and companion -being the same age as me), Sirius and I explored the Alley. We went through every single shops here. Well … all but one.

This one shop was special you see. Entering this store was something of a landmark event in a young witch or wizards life. Narcissa had made me promise that we would come here together on the day she turned 11. Unfortunately, my 11th birthday came a week before hers, and with it came a lot of broken promises.

But here I was now, standing in front of that very store- Ollivander's. It was thirty years after I had planned and with my husband and children (Harry was very much my child now) instead of my parents and childhood friend, but here all the same. I looked towards the kids and asked "Ready?". Lyra just shrugged, as calm and composed as she always was. Harry on the other hand looked appropriately excited as he nodded. That was another reason why I loved him so much. As much as I loved Lyra(and I knew she loved me just as much in return), I never felt _needed_ around her. I hadn't even realized I was missing out on that part of being a mother until I met Harry. Smiling down at them, I took a deep breath and stepped into the store.

The store was dark and cluttered. The scent here reminded me of the forest. There was no one at the counter. I was just about to call out for the shopkeeper when a voice came out of the dark labyrinth of shelves startling me into silence. "Strange... How very, very strange"

An old and frail looking man stepped out of the shadows, staring at me curiously. "I'm sorry? what's strange?" David asked the man defensively, stepping forward slightly as if to shield me from him. "It is strange good sir, that for the first time in my life I find myself looking at a face and thinking of a name, yet unable to place their wand" He said still looking straight at me. "Tell me Alhena Black Addison, which wand was it that picked you?"

"How did you..." I started, but then I figured he must have used some form of magic to identify me. "I don't have a wand. I don't have any magic either" I replied.

"Don't you?" It wasn't a question and he wasn't looking at me as he said this... He was looking at Lyra, and I could make out a slight flinch from her at his words.

"No I don't" I said rather forcefully. This man was making my daughter uncomfortable. I don't know how or why, but I wouldn't stand for it. But before I could direct his attention elsewhere, he caught sight of Harry.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter. You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand..."

At the end of the day I found myself tossing and turning in my bed. Unable to sleep. I couldn't take my mind off Ollivander's last words to both my children. What he had said to Harry was bad enough (And how dare he! So what if Harry's wand was a brother to the Dark Lord's , it meant nothing! He shouldn't have placed such huge expectations on such tiny shoulders) his words to Lyra made no sense at all... except to her apparently.

"13 inches Yew and Phoenix feather," Lyra paled at hearing the description of her new wand. Ollivander looked at her curiously and said "Am I correct in assuming you are aware of the significance of that particular combination Miss Addison?"

Lyra nodded feebly.

Ollivander's expression softened and he went up to her and knelt so he could look directly into her eyes and said, "I have said this before and I shall say it again, no two wands are the same just as no two wizards are the same. Even the difference of half an inch at the beginning of a journey can lead us to an entirely different destination," He said.

Lyra cracked a smile at that. "Was that a pun in a metaphor?"

Ollivander chuckled, "But of course!"

Lyra looked up at the old wand maker and in the most sincere voice I have ever heard her use, she said "Thank You". And that was that. No excuses and no explanations.

On the way back, no matter how we tried, she didn't explain what that had been about.


	5. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**- I don't own Harry Potter… no really- I'm supposed to let you know that.

**AN:** This is a double update-please make sure you've read the previous chapter.

**Chapter 11- Familiar Strangers **

**Platform 9****¾ Kings cross Station: September-1-1991**  
**Age 11**

**Hermione's POV**

It was like Diagon Alley all over again. Sure it looked just like an ordinary platform (if you ignored the fact that you had to walk through a _solid wall_ to get here).The seemingly endless bright fire-engine red train was definitely an older model I remembered seeing in the museum once. But it was just that- a train, a platform and a crowd. It could have been any other day at the station … until I had to duck as stray broom flew right towards me.

It was finally happening! I was going to Hogwarts. And I was terrified.

The day I had first learned about Magic, had been hands down the best day of my _life_. I was suddenly in a fairy tale. All those clichés about nothing being impossible suddenly didn't sound so ridiculous anymore. But the very next day as I sat down and started to pour over all the books I had bought from Diagon Alley and the illusion of the perfect dream world had shattered.

The magical community was backwards enough that calling them medieval would not be much of an exaggeration. They discriminated against clearly sentient, intelligent creatures. Forget the creatures; they considered any one without magic beneath them. They had absolutely no regard for anything modern be it Fashion or Technology or even Medicine, if only because _muggles_ (what an ugly word) had come up with it. I could understand the fact that electric currents were easily disrupted by ambient magic, but that discovery had been made around the time Edison was still alive! As much as I tried, I could find no evidence on further research on the subject. What about radio waves? Telephones? The INTERNET!

Of course most of my concern had disappeared quickly in the face of what magic could do. These people may have been lazy with discovering new things, but that was because they already had everything they could ask for. Would a civilization still evolve if it had reached maximum efficiency? I wondered. There was almost nothing magic couldn't do. Almost.

It appeared even magic couldn't prevent wars. It was when I uncovered _that_ particular bit of Wizarding history that I seriously reconsidered attending Hogwarts. Pure bloods, half bloods and muggle borns. There was a social hierarchy here. It didn't matter how smart I was, I would still be at the bottom of it. Would it be worth it? To leave everything I could be in one world for everything I couldn't be in another. If I stayed here, I would probably end up as a doctor or a lawyer. I would have respect and comfort. I would have a nice 'happy' family. I frowned and looked up to where my parents were sitting, each to busy with their work to notice me, or even each other. Well happy _enough_ at any rate…

What would become of me if I went? I frowned again and look around at all the books strewn around in front of me. I _didn't know._ That thought startled me. I had no idea where I might end up if I took this road. And I found that for the first time in my life- I liked not knowing something.

So here I was. My parents had dropped me off at the barrier, hugging me and wishing me well, but unwilling to follow me onto the platform, unsure if it would allow them to pass.

I hauled my trunk up onto to the train, but I could only lift up one end. Hmm… I did not think this one through.

"Do you need some help?" I looked up to see who had spoken. In front of me stood a beautiful blond girl who looked to be about my age. I was so startled at the offer that I just stood there for a second before my wits returned.

"Y-Yes please!... Thank You"

She just nodded graciously and waved her hand in the direction of my trunk. I was confused, did she just mean to taunt me? It wouldn't be the first time a pretty girl had attempted to mock me for … well for being me. But this was unusually soon, she didn't even know anything about me yet…before I could complete that thought I caught a glimpse of my trunk…my floating trunk.

"Well lead the way… We should probably find an empty compartment to drop these off in" she said casually… as if she hadn't just contradicted every single thing that I had read about magic.

I looked her over carefully… nope, no wand. And there was another trunk floating right behind her. Presumably, her own.

"Right…" I was proud that I managed to squeak out even that much. I turned and headed into the train, constantly looking over my shoulders to check if she was following. _'At least I'm not the only one' _I thought to myself as I observed the curious and more often than not startled expressions of everyone that looked our way. Finally, I found a compartment that was still empty, and I slide in, holding the door open for her to follow. She stepped into the compartment and with another wave of her hands she moved the trunks up onto the rack and turned to me.

"Lyra Addison… Nice to meet you" she said, holding out her hand with a pleasant smile.

"Hermione Granger… nice to meet you too" I shook her outstretched hand and then before I could stop myself the words just tumbled out of my mouth "How did you do that? Is wandless magic common in pureblood homes? _Are_ you a pure blood? Can you do anything else without a wand? Can you do anything else _with_ a wand? Which year are you in? I'm just a first year you see, I don't really know much about all this," I somehow managed to stop myself.

She looked amused. Not in a You-are-such-a-nerd kind of way but in more of Such-a-cute-little-pet kind of way. "It's a secret, no, no, yes, definitely yes, and I'm a first year, just like you" She said. It took me a second to match the answers with the questions. And then I was even more confused.

"So you're not a pure blood?" I asked confused. "You can't possibly be a muggle born if you already know magic like that before even first year! So a half blood then," It would really sting my pride if she was a muggle born. I was used to knowing more than the kids my age. Coming here I had accepted that children from magical homes would know more about magic than me, at least in the beginning. But if she was a muggle born…

"Well technically yes, I'm a half-blood" She answered, still looking amused. I never got a chance to ask her what she meant by _technically, _because right then, we were interrupted by a nervous looking boy our age.

"E-excuse me, H-have either of you seen a toad?"

**Lyra's POV**

Persuading the Dursley's to let Harry go with us had not been all that difficult. They had simply been told that we were heading to London that day, where I would be attending school, and that we could drop Harry off at the station. There really wasn't any need for them to know I was a witch. Although from the look on Petunia's face I wasn't too sure that she hadn't already guessed.

Once we got here, I managed to delay us at the newspaper stand, just until I saw the crowd of red-heads. That was my signal, and the second act begins. I dropped the paper, saying it wasn't anything I hadn't already read yesterday. Then dragged a very confused Harry and a very amused set of parents to the barrier between platforms nine and ten. We got there just after the eldest of the present red-haired brothers disappeared behind the barrier.

"Excuse me!" I raised my voice slightly to catch the Weasley matron's attention. She turned to us with a pleasant enough expression and started to say something, until she saw my mother's face. At which she clammed up and stepped back seemingly on guard if not a little confused.

I trudged on despite the less than reassuring reaction. "Do you know if people without magic can get through to platform 9 ¾." I asked in the most polite tone that I could.

"Without magic?" She looked even more confused as she glanced between me and my mother.

"Yes" I was starting to get impatient. This thing with people half-recognizing my mother and half-assuming she was someone else was starting to get really old. "My parent can't do magic you see, I was wondering if they could come onto the platform with us." I said pointing to Harry and myself.

"Oh! I see" She looked mildly embarrassed at her earlier reaction."Pardon me I thought you were… someone else, well I've never seen Muggle parents at the platform before… I'm sorry, I don't think you can." She really did look sorry, like it was the most terrible thing that they couldn't see us off.

"It's all right, they're more than capable of looking after themselves, my little monsters" Mum said, ruffling Harry's hair (mostly because, nothing she ever did to my hair ever made a difference, it always just settled back to the way it was- it's no fun ruffling hair if it isn't actually ruffled, she would always say) I don't think he minded very much if the smile on his face was anything to go by.

Molly Weasley smiled at us and then turned to her own –rather large-brood that was looking at us curiously. She instructed Fred to go through next. Which he did, after berating her for not knowing he was George… or Fred as it happened. If I'm being completely honest- by the time the twins both disappeared I wasn't sure when they'd been lying and when they'd been telling the truth. Anyway, I was starting to get rather late, I turned to my parent and gave them each a hug, waited for Harry to do the same, then grabbed his hand and ran towards the barrier, waving back at them all the while.

Once we were on the platform, I caught a glimpse of a certain bushy haired witch. Well, I might as well satiate my curiosity.

I told Harry I'd meet him on the train and rushed of in the direction I'd seen Hermione in. After a moment of dragging along my –rather heavy- trunk and the ungainly empty cage (my little barn owl, Flynn had already been released and sent ahead to Hogwarts along with Hedwig), I paused. Why was I dragging it again? It wasn't like I was supposed to hide my magic _here_. I was among other Wizards and Witches. I considered hiding the full extent of my abilities for a second, then I dismissed it. There was no benefit in hiding what I could do. It's not like I was going to be anonymous anyway. I was already Harry Potter's friend. I was going to be watched closely. It would be impossible to hide, so why not flaunt it. This way at least I'd have the benefit of being respected by all the different political fractions in Hogwarts, despite my heritage. People would take me a bit more seriously. It would certainly help if I wanted to warn someone about their future.

So with that in mind, I turned to my luggage and merely looked at it, and it floated into the air. I turned to walk again, ignoring the gasps of surprise and the dumbfounded expressions as my trunk followed me like a puppy on a leash.

When I finally found her, she was having luggage troubles of her own. This provided me with a perfect opening. "Do you need some help?"

**Neville's POV**

Trevor was GONE! I couldn't find him anywhere, and Gran had already left, and the train was just about to start off. I didn't know what to DO!

I knew a toad was not the most fashionable of pets. Owls were useful, cats were intelligent, and toads were… slimy. But I couldn't just stop looking for him. What if he got hurt? What if he got trampled? What if he got eaten by someone else's pet? At that last thought I finally got up and started searching for him. He wasn't anywhere in my compartment, so I steeled myself and knocked on the door to the compartment next to mine. It was open, I peered in to see I'd interrupted two witches that looked to be about as old as me. I had never spoken to someone my age before (Or any age under 80 for that matter)

"E-excuse me, H-have either of you seen a toad?" I winced at how I had stuttered. If Gran had heard me like that…

"No we haven't. Why have you lost one?" Said the brunette, not unkindly.

I could only nod .

"We'll help you look then" The blond said and the brunette agreed with a nod.

"You will?!" I hadn't expected that.

"Of course, besides three heads are better than one" the brunette said. The blond looked really amused at that and in a whisper that was still fairly audible said "I wonder if you'd still think that by the time the year is out." I looked over to brunette but she was just as confused as I was.

"Any ways, Lyra Addison, Pleasure to meet you" The blond introduced herself.

"And I'm Hermione Granger" the brunette said as she smiled.

"N-Neville Longbottom" I managed to say that much at least.

Addison and Granger, they were both muggle names. I'd never met anyone who was muggleborn before (then again, I hadn't met many people). I wonder how they were different from me, that is, _if_ they were different from me.

"We should split up, it would be fasted to search the train that way" Hermione said in a slightly pushy voice. It didn't seem to frazzle the other girl though. "Alright, Neville, why don't you go that way," She pointed to the front of the train, "And me and Hermione will search in the other direction, if you don't find your toad by the time you reach the front, maybe you can ask one of the prefects for help, I heard someone say they're usually in the first carriage… we'll meet back here once we're done… Okay?" Lyra seemed to be just as bossy as Hermione. But there was something different about her, like I was talking to an adult, I hadn't felt that when Hermione spoke. I half expected Hermione to be angry with Lyra, that's usually what happened whenever I saw two really pushy people in the same room. But Hermione was just looking towards Lyra , smiling .

"Okay" I agreed easily, and turned to walk towards the front carriage "And Neville," I turned to see Lyra look at me almost…fondly? "Don't worry so much, I'm sure he'll find you, even if you don't find him" She said. I'm not sure I understood what she meant, but her words made me feel better anyway.

**Lyra's POV**

When we reached the cabin which Harry was sharing with Ron, Ron had just been about to cast a spell at _The Rat_.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," Hermione said before I could greet Harry. Then she saw Ron with his wand in his hand "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." She sat down. Ron looked taken aback. "Er - all right." He cleared his throat. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. _Scabbers _stayed gray and fast asleep. "Are you sure that's a real spell?" She said. "Well, it's not very good, is it?"

"Oh I don't know Mione…" She looked startled, whether it was at the interruption or at the nickname I don't know.

"Hey Harry! Has Malfoy been here yet?" I couldn't remember whether the incident with Malfoy had been before or after this.

"Nope" He replied with a smirk. "I hope I'm there when you run into him though"

Ron who looked slightly put off when Malfoy had been mentioned now looked curious.

"I live to serve, Your Majesty" I said with almost practiced sarcasm.

"What did you mean? About the spell not being a bad one? Because I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me." She turned to the boys and said " I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

"Oh! Sorry about that Hermione, right, this is Harry Potter my best friend, and this is…?" I waited for Ron to introduce himself… All my other powers were fine, but no way in hell was I letting anyone without occulmency know that I could foresee.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Pleasure to meet you, Lyra Addison" I waved at him. Hermione was staring at Harry looking as if she were itching to say something, so I decided to distract her before she could.

"What I meant was, the spell doesn't matter so much as the intention behind it" I looked at Ron and gestured to _The Rat_ and said "May I?"

He shrugged and nodded.

I looked at the still sleeping animal, and hoped the loathing wasn't too visible in my face and repeated the dud spell. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,_ Turn_ _this stupid, fat rat yellow_," There was a lot more venom in my voice than there should have been. I felt my magic gather at my fingers to do my bidding, and released it with a wave of my hand.

Scabbers turned bright yellow. That was oddly satisfying. I couldn't reveal the rat for who he was yet ( they might just throw him into Azkaban without questioning him, or they might believe he was just a very, very confused old wizard, who thought he really was a rat… I didn't trust the ministry as far as I could throw it- which means I didn't trust them _at all _–The only way Sirius would definitely get a trial, was if he was safe and away from Dementors first. I didn't want what happened to Barty Crouch Jr to happen to him.) Still, making the ugly rat as miserable as I could for the next two years felt like the least I could do.

Hermione and Ron stared at me with identical expressions of disbelief, while Harry watched on amused.

"That was a real spell?" Hermione asked looking incredulous.

"Nope… that 'spell' was a complete dud, I just said it out loud for the fun of it," Ron scowled and muttered something about 'stupid…George…should've known…'

"But then I find most spells are unnecessary," I continued " the wand motions and pronunciations just optimize the effect of the magic, but it is still possible to do magic without them, you just need to be able to focus really really hard that's all"

Hermione seemed to be reluctant to accept that explanation "But the books said-"

"Would you believe something you've read over something you've seen?" That made her stop and think.

Ron on the other hand was still skeptical "You did _wandless _magic!"

"Yes I did" I replied in a deadpan voice. He didn't seem to know how to respond to that.

"We should go, Neville will probably be waiting…" Hermione reminded me.

"Right! We'll see you boys in a little while" I waved and left with Hermione.


	6. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**- I don't own Harry Potter (Or anybody else for that matter- slavery is really not my thing)

**Chapter 12- House Is Where The Heart Is**

**Hogwarts Castle-1****st**** September 1991**  
**Age 11**

**Draco's POV**

That _impudent peasant_. How _dare _she trick _me_.

I had to wait until the sorting to find out how utterly and completely I had been fooled by a _mudblood_.

_A Mudblood._

"Addison, Lyra" McGonagall had called out. And then the girl I had been doing everything in my power to avoid stepped up to the sorting hat.

It was beyond humiliating that I had thought she might have been someone from a branch of the family that I couldn't recall. I was thanking every deity I knew that I had been too embarrassed to ask my parents about my forgotten 'cousin'. That girl couldn't possibly be any relation of mine. That our appearances were alike was just a coincidence.

I had even avoided going up to Potter like I had planned- I didn't want to risk running into her. Probably a good thing seeing how she had walked in right alongside the boy-who-lived hand-in-hand and chatting away, pointing out something that caught her interest every three steps. She even had the gall to wave my way when she caught me staring.

Still, I didn't miss the glances thrown her way by the staff. Or the contemplative looks in far too many faces as they looked between me and her.

As much as it pained me to admit- she looked more like a pureblood Lady than half the females of my acquaintance here. She walked up to the hat with a quiet dignity and gracefully placed it on her head.

**Lyra's POV**

"Hmm… interesting head you have here girl… I wonder how such a strange mind came to be" The hat whispered in my mind.

'So it's true… You can only read a part of my mind, who I am and how I think, but not my memories' I released the breath I had been holding. I had managed to find that particular bit of trivia in a much older version of Hogwarts: A History. I had no proof of the books claims, and my occulmency shields had been up regardless. Seeing how the hat didn't even comment on the presence of the shields however, I had to assume they were immaterial to it. Either that or I was doing it wrong… hey! It's not like I had anyone to practice them against. At this point I was just following the instructions I had read to the letter and hoped and prayed I was doing it right.

"Yes… it is true. Godric barred me from looking to deeply into the students' minds. He feared it would be an unforgivable invasion of their privacy… despite how much his friends tried to convince him otherwise"

'Wait…Friends? As in plural? As in someone other than Salazar Slytherin?'

"Rowena always did believe that pursuit of knowledge was enough justification for anything"

I couldn't have hid the wave of surprise and revulsion from the hat if I tried.

"Hmm…I wouldn't be so quick to judge little miss, Ravenclaw is a house that would suit you well, you have a great thirst for knowledge… but that's not all you have is there… yes I can see it now, you have an insatiable need to be seen, a desire to be acknowledged and respected, but for all the right reasons … a need for justice, but a talent for masking the truth... You are in equal parts a Slytherin and a Gryffindor"

'So where will you put me then?'

"Oh? What's this… you aren't going to tell me which way you would choose to go?"

I gave the mental equivalent of a shrug. 'It changes nothing. I know who I am. I've already made my choices. Besides, isn't your purpose to send me to the house that would be best for me? You've been placing students for centuries… I'm sure you know what you're doing by now'

He (it?) chuckled "Such an odd soul… yes… the house that is best for you. It's been so long, I had almost forgotten…" he sounded slightly sad at that thought.

Then without any warning he bellowed out…

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

…Huh?

**Hermione's POV**

"Ah… another one… yes girl I know where you wish to go, and I know where you belong… and before you ask, no they are not the same"

It took me a second to get over the shock of hearing a voice in my head. And then another to try to figure out what it said.

'Pardon?'

"You desire adventure, yes. Even more than you desire knowledge… but which place is best for you? Where will you truly thrive? Where to send you … Ravenclaw will let you be who you truly are, and Gryffindor is where you might be who you want to be"

'Well if you put it like that…'

"GRYFFINDOR!"

**Neville's POV**

"You're a difficult one aren't you? Send you to Hufflepuff and you will find peace at the price of pride. Send you to Gryffindor and you will find pride at the price of peace. Either way, you will find happiness… either could be best for you… so Mr. Longbottom… in this case I believe a choice can be allowed"

There wasn't a choice here.

Not really.

"Very well then…"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

**Draco's POV**

"You are more both more and less than you think you are Mr. Malfoy… and once I would not have hesitated with my choice for you, but now I wonder…"

'Wonder? Wonder WHAT? Malfoys have been in Slytherin for generations! You can't put me anywhere else… you…you CAN'T!'

I couldn't begin to imagine what my father would say to me if I wasn't sorted into Slytherin… let me rephrase that- I couldn't begin to imagine what my father would DO to me if I wasn't in Slytherin.

The sorting hat gave a sigh. "Very well then… I shall send you to the house you desire to be in… but remember my words young Malfoy… Your name does not define you, your actions do. You are not your father- and that may just be your saving grace someday"

And then out loud it declared… "SLYTHERIN!"

**Harry's POV**

"Hmm… difficult… very difficult… So many roads, so many consequences"

'Umm… So… does that mean you can see my future in all the houses?'

"Future? No… Nothing quite so grand… I see possibilities… And you Mr. Potter are full of them."

'Well… as long as it's not Slytherin'

"I wouldn't dismiss that option so easily … Slytherin could lead you to greatness you know… you would do well in that house"

'I know they're not all evil and all… Lyra pretty much drummed it into my head after that lecture she gave Hagrid about being prejudiced… but if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not wonder every night… if I'm sleeping in the same room my parent's murderer once slept in'

"Ah… well in that case, better be…"

**Ron's POV**

"Another Weasley eh? Right… easiest decision I've had to make all evening. Don't worry Mr. Weasley despite the cunning and ambition I sense, you are every bit a temperamental and brave soul. Just like all your brothers before you, you belong in…"

The Gryffindor table burst into applause…I could see Harry and my brothers standing up to cheer for me. I finally let myself relax. It was going to be alright.

I let my eyes roam around the Great hall. There were a few familiar faces all around.

There was Malfoy down at the Slytherin table, surrounded by his minions…and he was glaring at someone at the Hufflepuff table, looking slightly smug… I followed his line of sight to… Lyra? I wonder what she'd done to piss him off like that. Scratch that there were more important things to wonder about- like how the hell did someone that powerful end up with the Puffs? Not that there was anything wrong with that house or anything. It was waaay better than being in Slytherin. But I always thought the more powerful people either went to Gryffindor or Slytherin. In fact going by the look on Malfoy's face I think I wasn't the only one who thought that. He must think she's not all that if she ended up in Hufflepuff… Boy was he in for a surprise.

Down the Gryffindor table I could see my brothers' dorm mates. I remembered them from all the times they'd been invited over last summer. There was Lee Jordan , holding something in his hand that seemed to be moving… I scooted over a bit in the other direction. There was Oliver Wood… Quidditch captain and oddly enough, one of Percy's (only) friend(s). Then there were my brothers themselves. Milling about, joking around(except for Percy of course), watching them, I felt kinda proud. They were all so good at what they did… just like Bill and Charlie had been, probably. I could feel that weird heavy feeling coming, the one that I got every time I thought about how high my brothers had set the bar for me. And then I looked up at the boy sitting next to me.

Harry Potter.

Somehow I had befriended the hero of our world. The legend from stories. But he looked like a normal boy. And he acted like a normal one too.

He didn't seem to think having that many brothers was a bad thing… in fact when I told him about my brothers he had looked jealous. Can you believe it? The-Boy-Who-Lived, jealous of _me?_ Well I had to ask him why then, didn't I?

"Think of it like this," he'd said. "Every time someone wants to mess with you, they'll have to watch out for a curse breaker, a dragon handler, a prefect and a set of ingenious pranksters"

…And when you put it like that- I sound like the luckiest bloke alive don't I?

Just like that, the heavy feeling was gone.

**Lyra's POV**

Anyone who had ever been to school- _any school_ will know- there are _always_ cliques. It doesn't matter that the school you're going to holds no resemblance whatsoever to any normal mundane curriculum. In fact in Hogwarts, half the work of stereo-typing amongst students was done by the time you were sorted. Jocks in Gryffindor(mentally I'm equating this to the Sports clubs, the cheerleaders and the class clowns ), Nerds in Ravenclaw (The Science club, the Debates club, the Anything-for-extra-credits-on-assignments club), All the friendly cause people (You know the ones- the boy/girl scouts, the environment club, the social services club… Hell, probably even the music club! ) in Hufflepuff, and Socialites and Power hoarders in Slytherin (Student council, prom committee, etiquettes club… and now that I think about it, probably the Drama club too- what? They're supposed to be good at lying to your face-no?).

It wasn't so obvious watching the lower years- but by the time you get to the fourth years- it's fairly clear where people stand on the social ladder. What surprised me though was that those in the final few years weren't as obviously marked by their House affiliations. There were boisterous athletic people on all the tables. And every table had its own set of studious bookworms and vain plastic dolls.

Some even crossed the invisible-but-clearly-there borders between houses to talk to or connect with people from other houses (Even though all Slytherin and Gryffindor interactions were (not so) subtly hostile). It looks like people grow into their own eventually.

Still- it didn't change the fact that like-minded people bonded into groups of friends with shared interests or circumstances. Which makes me wonder where I'll end up.

I could already see Harry bonding with Ron over something at the Gryffindor table… and Hermione looked like she was scolding them - not very effectively, going by the grins on their faces. That was the start of something really amazing- something I didn't want to mess with. At least not until the troll incident was over. By then they'd be too solid to topple with a careless remark or action… I hope.

Harry was like my best friend- my brother even. Over the years he had come to depend on me and my parents like one depends on their family. But we were the only ones he had. Here, he had the chance to explore and make his own friends. To find people that relied on him and not just the other way around. He needed that.

The more I think about it, the more I'm glad I'm not in Gryffindor. It would have been too tempting for me to mess with the story. This way I could just interfere at the right moments- and let the plot go where it was meant to.

And that wasn't the only reason Hufflepuff was good for me. I hadn't missed the looks the staff sent me. It seems Professor Sprout had not explained my lineage to her colleagues. Even Dumbledore was sending me measured and curious glances. All of those had eased up as soon as the hat sent me to the Badgers' table.

I looked around me to see faces that I could only vaguely put a name to. There were names –even in my own year- that I didn't recognize.

I knew I was sitting next to Susan Bones (a rather pretty, if solemn looking red-head), who had spared me a polite greeting and introduced herself and her blonde friend- Hannah Abbot - before resuming her conversation with said blonde. Across from me was one Wayne Hopkins, who was rather passionately (and loudly) declaring the many virtues of Quidditch to the boy sitting next to him- Justin Finch-Fletchley who was nodding on politely, even though I'm fairly sure he's a muggle born and probably hadn't heard of Quidditch before today. All in all- it was a fairly decent start- and we were all making polite small talk. A lot of effort had to be made by my peers to include me in their conversations (Hannah in particular seemed to be really stubborn about getting me to talk), but with a little effort they succeeded.

It turns out my father's occupation was a point of interest for the purebloods present. The Wizarding world had never heard of Cancer after all.

"But if it's incurable, what does your father _do_?" Asked Susan, looking absurdly concerned for the patients of a disease she had never heard about before today.

I shared an amused glance with Justin, who at least seemed somewhat aware of my plight.

"Well it can't be cured, but sometimes it can be put into remission" Confused faces were my only response "Beaten back " I clarified. That seemed to work for them.

Everything went on normally. I was introduced to the other Hufflepuff girls in my year-Leanne Robinson and Megan Jones. I couldn't recall their names from the story I knew. And for good reason. They looked like they would eventually fall into the plastic dolls category (I really shouldn't be putting people into boxes like that).I even got to talk to Cedric Diggory- who was currently in third year. Granted that conversation went a little like- Him: _Could you pass the salt please_ Me: _Sure, here_ Him: _Thanks! _Cue- blinding, heart-stopping smile (him- in case that point needed clarification) and flushed stammering mess (that would be me… Unfortunately).

I was rather happy with the way things were going. I even considered the merits of being just another Hufflepuff and keeping my strengths on the down low. This seemed like a fairly peaceful place to be. That is until some unfortunate Slytherin soul 'tripped' while walking towards the staff's table. And a lot of soup went flying over the air... Right at the Hufflepuff table. Or to be more precise- right at the first years on the Hufflepuff table.

Really? You actually expect anyone to believe you genuinely tripped with a smirk on your face? Not a particularly bright one, are you? Well I wasn't about to let myself get drenched in chicken soup on my first day here.

So with an almost careless thought (I couldn't count the number of times I had done something like this already) I froze the soup in mid-air.

Silence.

Not the sort you hear after a gun-shot goes out, but the sort of slow hushing up that happened in the wake of utter confusion. People were looking about, trying to figure out who to thank for this generous piece of magic… but no one had their wand out. The staff table looked equally bewildered.

Well it was now or never.

"Really now, you should be more careful … You could have ruined that-" I gave a rather disdainful glace at the obviously stunned Slytherin, looking him up and down and noting the disgustingly food stained shirt.

"Never mind – nothing there to ruin" And with another casual flick of my hand the soup disappeared.

This time it was the gun-shot silence.

After all- wandless magic had been heard off (even if it was in an abstract, maybe it exists-maybe it doesn't sort of way). But a vindictive Hufflepuff? That was just insane.


	7. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer**- I wish everything here was mine… and if wishes were hippogriffs we'd all fly to the office on Mondays.

**AN-** Just to clarify, Lyra and Harry's relationship will be like Ron and Ginny's except maybe just a little closer since they're the same age.

And there is a very good reason for the Sirius situation- even if it's going to take a few more chapters for me to get to it.

The chapters are probably going to get really long from here on out.

**Chapter 13- First Year (part I)**

**Hogwarts Castle-September-1991**  
**Age 11**

**Lyra's POV**

Maybe I should have been more discreet…

Well nothing I could do about it now. Next day, walking down the halls, I got a fairly good idea what Harry was in for. All that whispering and pointing was going to get old really fast.

At least Harry seemed cheered by the whole thing. "As long as I'm not the only one they're staring at".

Jerk.

Anyway… my fellow Hufflepuffs had gotten over the shock by the time we were in the dorms. There were still a few polite questions though - "So, have you always been able to do that?" "Is there anything else you can do wandlessly?" "Are you _really_ a muggleborn?"

I didn't really have a reason not to answer their questions. Besides, I figured the more open I am about myself, the less likely it is that people would grow suspicious.

After a night of answering innocuous queries- everything was back to normal. At least as far as my year mates in Hufflepuff were concerned. The rest of the school though, that was another story.

The Gryffindors kept patting me on the back, the Ravenclaws kept trying to figure me out, asking as many questions as the Hufflepuffs had (and a lot less politely) and the Slytherins seemed torn between glaring at me and being afraid of me.

Seriously… The Slytherins were scared of a little girl. A little first year Hufflepuff girl.

I think that's probably why I'd been getting so much praise from the Gryffindors.

Oh- and I'd finally come to appreciate exactly what it meant to be a Hufflepuff. Every time anyone from another house became too pushy, an older Hufflepuff would mysteriously materialize by my side and sort things out (read- glower and look menacing until whoever was badgering me got a clue and scrammed)

I was really starting to love my house.

Every minute I got to spend away from Harry or the Hogwarts library (more often than not in Hermione's company) I spent reading or socializing in the Hufflepuff common room. That place was a curious mix of homely and wacky that, oddly enough, reminded me of home. Mum would have loved this place. The common room's entrance was through a bunch of barrels, stacked a little ways from the Hogwart's kitchen. The room itself was wide with a low ceiling, decorated in earthy tones and bright, colorful and occasionally musical plants. Despite being underground- it was surrounded by enchanted windows that showed off plain, open, wind-rippled grass fields.

The dorm room I shared with Susan, Hannah, Megan and Leanne was just as homely as the common room. Our beds were surrounded by deep yellow, almost ochre curtains. The walls were an earthy brown and covered with the occasional tapestry depicting bright scenic views … that were sometimes reflected in the ever changing views visible through the ceiling-high enchanted windows beside every bed.

The girls and I got along pretty well. Megan and Leanne were alright once you got to know them. A bit vain and air-headed, but still likable… Most of the times.

I did prefer Susan and Hannah's company though. They had known each other all their lives- Hannah's father worked in the same department at the ministry as Susan's Aunt. Hannah was the loud and boisterous tomboy, and Susan was the quiet, studious and graceful presence that grounded Hannah's rather childish nature. Their interactions were always fun to watch- sometimes comic and sometimes soap-opera worthy. There was quite a bit of friction there too. They had obviously never spent this much time together before, and keeping up with each other despite such conflicting personalities was taking its toll on their friendship. My somewhat (self-admittedly) chaotic presence seemed like a welcome distraction. And before I knew it- they had become my friends.

**Draco's POV**

The curiosity was killing me. Who the hell was this girl? She wasn't supposed to be a powerful snarky Enigma; she was a Hufflepuff for heaven's sake! And why did people keep asking me if I knew her? I mean sure we looked a little alike- but that didn't mean anything… Right?

That's it- it was time to confront her directly- So when Charms with Hufflepuff came along- I knew what I had to do.

"Who are you?" Okay, so maybe I could have phrased that more eloquently.

"Hmm… took you long enough" She actually looked slightly amused.

I wasn't going to let her bait me- not again.

"Well?"

She looked slightly disappointed, and I gave myself a mental pat on the back for not responding like I had wanted to (and like how she had expected me to) with a sneer and a retort that would have my mother wash my mouth with soap.

She shrugged. "Ask your mum"

"And how would my Mother know you?" I asked, curious.

"She wouldn't" She replied looking smug.

Before I could lose my temper, she said "But she would know my mother, ask her about Alhena Black"

And that was that.

So, left without any other option, and a burning curiosity, I wrote to my mother. I had expected a reply along the lines of- Oh, yes there's that distant cousin of mine who lives as a recluse in the Alps which is why you've never heard of her. What I wasn't expecting was-

'_She was Uncle Orion's Eldest daughter- but she died years ago, sometime around her eleventh birthday. I can't imagine where you came across that name Draco dear, it's been decades since I've heard anyone speak off her. It was such a tragedy you see- no one in the family liked to talk about it. I doubt anyone outside of the family even remembers she existed…'_

Well that didn't clear up anything at all.

Thankfully Slytherin had a lot of classes with Hufflepuff this year.

History.

"My mother says Alhena Black died years ago… how do you even know about her?" I had waited all of five minutes into the lesson before asking her. It seems to me that I end up sitting next to her in all the damned classes we share. Slytherin- Hufflepuff classes had even numbers, which meant two to a table- which meant this was the only time I could talk to her without those damned housemates of hers poking their noses in.

"I wonder if that's really what they told her, or just what she's willing to admit to you" She mused to herself.

"My mother would never lie to me! Not about this!" I knew she wouldn't. My father could have(probably would have) but not my mother.

My vehemence seemed to have taken her aback. And then she recovered and smiled at me. "Alright, I believe you, in fact it's probably likely that she didn't know. After all she was only 11 herself back then"

"Didn't know what?" I asked… but I think I already knew by then.

"She didn't die, she was a squib. They covered it up and tossed her out" She said in a blank voice.

They threw her out when she was 11? I was 11… I couldn't imagine what I'd do if … no that would never happen. I was here. And my parents approved of me. I was the only heir my father had. It would never happen to me… but why did I still feel like there was a lead ball lodged in my throat.

Lyra suddenly looked up as if she'd just remembered something. She started digging into her book bag and emerged with a picture and handed it to me. It was a family portrait. Mentally I compared it to the one I carried of my own family. Both had three people, but where mine was in a formal drawing room, with stiff formal clothes and stiffer formal expressions- her's was set in a garden. Her father was ruffling her hair and her mother (she looked so much like mine) was laughing at the two of them and she had a mile wide grin on her face. I took a moment to let myself feel jealous, and then the moment was gone.

"Why isn't it moving?" I wondered out loud.

She laughed "Muggle pictures don't move silly!" like it was such an obvious fact.

"I've never seen a muggle picture before" I grumbled under my breath.

"Wow… you've really lived a sheltered life haven't you? Remind me to take you out to London someday little cousin… proper London, not just Diagon Alley" she amended when she saw my face.

Was it really alright to feel this happy at hearing her make plans for us like this? I had always wanted a sibling or at least a relative my age. But what would father say? She was the daughter of a muggle and a squib… but she was fairly powerful in her own right.

"And send that picture to your mum, tell her I said that my mum would probably love to hear from her again" She added.

Well that's that isn't it? If mother was going to associate with her family then there was nothing father could say about my spending time with her. And if she choose not to meet her long lost cousin… well I really didn't want to think about that.

**Lyra's POV**

Things with Draco were developing … oddly.

We had History, Charms and Astrology together.

If I wasn't already sitting with Hannah or Susan, he would wordlessly come and sit by me. We would exchange a few less than pleasant comments on each other's state of intellect. Then one of us would point out something funny, the other would snicker, and then we'd return to pretending that moment of civility never happened. Astrology was particularly amusing- especially since it generally devolved into lessons on family history.

Transfigurations, Herbology and DADA were with Gryffindors. I generally spent those either with Harry or Hermione, with a few conversations with Ron and Neville thrown into the mix.

Potions with Ravenclaw had, surprisingly become my absolute favorite. Sure Snape was a harsh task master… but he had good reason. A single, small, seemingly inconsequential mistake could lead to catastrophic results. He wasn't nearly as biased in the Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff class as he was rumored to be in the Slytherin-Gryffindor ones. He didn't give or take (mostly take) points unless it was well deserved.

I think he was impressed by my work- not that I could tell much from his impassive face, but he did occasionally manage an approving sort of nod in my direction. Coming from Severus Snape, a nod of approval was high praise indeed… especially if you were _not_ in Slytherin.

As for the rest of my lessons- magic came as easily to me as breathing. Hermione and I constantly traded between first and second places in theory. But when it came to practical applications- I was without an equal. Every spell worked on the first go, some times without even an incantation or wand movement. I still wasn't sure why it seemed so easy, but you wouldn't hear me complaining about it. The Professor's didn't seem to know what to make off me.

A couple of months passed this way. Harry had already told me about what he had found about the Gringott's break in and his encounter with Fluffy the cerberus- in between rants of how much Snape hated him and how much he hated Malfoy and how he wished he could be practicing Quidditch all the time because he was so nervous about being thrown off the Gryffindor team for not being good enough- despite my reassurances that nothing of the sort would ever happen.

Harry was aware of my evolving distant-relative relationship with Malfoy, but he didn't seem too bothered by it. When I asked him why that was, he just shrugged and said- "He's your family right?"

Right- I'd forgotten. This was the boy that had forgiven his cousin for a life-times worth of torment over a single acknowledgement and a handshake, years down the line.

"Speaking of Quidditch" I decided to interrupt him before he figured out more ways to cuss at Malfoy and/or Snape. "How's that new broom working for you?"

And that was just the right thing to say. Harry looked up at me with a gigantic smile "It's working brilliantly- Wood said it's probably the fastest model out yet… I… I don't know how to thank-"

"Okay, we obviously still need to work on this – Harry you're family. You don't thank family for splurging on you. In fact, you turn around and say- Can I get that one too? – Understand?"

He looked sheepish and hesitant for a moment, but then he nodded firmly- so I assume I won't have to repeat this particular lecture for another few months.

I had already informed my parents at the start of the year that Harry would be on the Quidditch team(Ah the advantages of masquerading as a seer!) and they had bought him a Nimbus-pro. The slightly (maybe more than just slightly) more expensive version of a Nimbus 2000, designed specifically for Quidditch professionals- with more in-built security than any other version available. Then on the day he got selected for the team- I had asked McGonagall for permission to have Harry's brand new broom brought to the castle- which she had granted of course. The look on Harry's face when Flynn flew up to him with that well wrapped (and obviously broom shaped) package had been priceless. I think the twins even managed to click a picture of the moment- I'm going to have to ask Fred and George for a copy of that.

A week before Halloween, I stumbled upon a book that would change everything.

It wasn't a particularly attractive book. It wasn't even a dangerous one. It was in fact a dull first year's guide to Potions. To be more specific- a guide to different potion bases. A base, was a starting point for creating any potion. It differed depending on the kind of potion you wished to create- Healing potions, Poisons, Appearance altering potions, mind altering potions, potions that were for inanimate objects and so on. They all had their own base potion formulas. But it was the last one that caught my attention- emotion inducing potions.

It was really advanced stuff, and the book contained nothing beyond the base potion formula. I'm guessing if I want to search for more I'd have to look in the restricted section. That or ask Professor Snape.

Potions that messed with emotions were restricted in their use for a reason. Mostly the reason was love potions. But they could be used to control people in other ways too. The imperious curse only controlled people for a little while- and then when the effects wore off- the person could return to being who they were. But potions that altered the way you felt- they changed your perception of the world. And even though the effects of the potion would eventually wear off- you would still be left wondering how much of what you felt was real.

So of course, the instant I asked the Professor about when we would be starting on potions like that, he grew suspicious.

"Why Miss Addison?" And then with his trademark sneer "Do you wish to learn how to make those blasted love potions like the rest of your female generation… I find myself disappointed, I had expected better of you"

I didn't know whether to be pissed that he thought I was petty enough to ask him about love potions, or pleased that he admitted he expected better of me.

"Not love Sir, I wish to know if there's any potion that can induce remorse"

Now I had his attention.

"And why pray tell, would that subject interest you?"

Think fast, think fast, think fast…

"Well… I heard about the justice system in the wizarding world… and Azkaban sounded rather… barbaric. So it got me thinking- there's so much that magic can do, then why would it be impossible to make the guilty realize the error of their ways? I mean… people only do bad things because they don't know any better… right? If there was some way to make people feel remorse proportionate to their crimes, maybe they'd change for the better…" I trailed off. This was just an excuse, but now that I thought about it- it really did make sense.

"How naive" Cue, another sneer.

"I am not naïve! Or stupid… I know that potions aren't permanent… I know that most of them will probably return to being themselves. But even if it works for just a single person… isn't it worth it?" And I felt the conviction in what I was saying. I really did believe this. Even if I had an ulterior motive for the remorse potion.

Snape was staring at me like I had grown a second head. Then he looked away so I couldn't see the expression on his face.

"As… Noble, as that sentiment is Miss. Addison I'm afraid there isn't any such potion in existence" he said in a far away voice.

"Not Yet… But there will be" I said determinedly.

Then he turned to look at me, and I couldn't pin the emotion I saw on his face, but if I had to guess- the closest thing to it would be pride.

"Perhaps" He agreed with a nod.

Okay now comes the tough part … "I want to do it Professor. I want to make that potion. Could you… I mean if you had the time… I mean I'd appreciate it if…"

He looked faintly amused "Yes … I will help you"


	8. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer**- I wish everything here was mine… and if wishes were hippogriffs we'd all fly to the office on Mondays.

**AN-**

Thank You so much for reading this! Thank you even more for Favorite-ing/Following/Reviewing this!

Mewster7-It's very similar to Tom Riddle's wand

-I haven't decided on the pairings yet- although I do like your idea of having Harry explore a bit before he figures things out. And no I'm not very fond of the Hinny pairing... in either case- romance will be a minor component of the story- at least until fourth year- unless I'm struck by a sudden muse to go that way. Cerdic and Lyra is a growing temptation.

**Chapter 14- First Year (part II)**

**Hogwarts Castle-October-1991**  
**Age 11**

**Lyra's POV**

Halloween feast

I heard about what happened in the Gryffindor's charms class from Susan, who heard from Hannah, who had eavesdropped on a conversation between Lisa Turpin and Stephen Cornfoot who had heard all about it from Lavender Brown. It's a wonder any secrets survived in this place!

I had been hoping that my presence had at least mellowed things between Hermione and Ron a bit. Apparently I was very much mistaken.

Walking into the Halloween feast, the first thing I did was head up to the Gryffindor table to hit Ron upside the head.

"Y-ouch… bloody hell! That hurts woman! What was that for!?"

"Oh, I need to tell you what that was for do I? Can't think of anything you might have done today that could possible justify this?" I remarked, doing (I hoped) a good impression of my mother's you-are-in-so-much-trouble-young-lady expression.

Beside him, Harry was trying to duck behind the table to hide his amusement.

"And you!" like I was about to spare him the grief. "You just stood by and _let_ him say that to Hermione? Neither of you even went after her!" Harry at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed at my reminder.

"Well… It looked like she was crying, and I didn't know what to do… it's not like we knew she was listening!" Ron whined. I rolled my eyes- _men. _They probably wouldn't have half as much trouble confronting the troll later today as they would trying to deal with a crying female. But I could tell he was feeling guilty about it.

"Whatever, you better apologize to Hermione next time you see her!" The _Or Else _was pretty much implied. Once they both looked properly cowed, I returned to my seat. Just in time for Quirrell's dramatic entrance.

Troll in the dungeons… Sure, send half the school's population to the dungeons then… why ever not? Wonder if magic makes people just a little senile- because none of the professors look particularly bothered by that decision. Oh well… it's not like it's really in the dungeons. So I went on my merry way, noting that I was probably the least panicked student present in the hall.

I noticed Ron and Harry slip away in the confusion, for a second I debated following them… but what for? They all manage to come out of it just fine- not even a stay at the hospital, hell none of them got so much as a scratch from the troll. I could only make things worse, not better.

That doesn't mean I didn't whack Harry on the head next morning for trying to take on a troll on his own. Why waste a perfectly good excuse to hit him on the head? Then I sat down and make him tell me all about it. In the Great Hall. In front of witnesses. If it was inevitable that this would be talked about, then I'd rather everyone had their facts straight. I had already started hearing some malicious rumors about 'That attention seeking prat' who went looking for the troll to get a good fight, and then burnt it to a crisp with a single fire spell.

Being Harry Potter meant that people were going to talk about him, whether he liked it or not. And if he didn't tell people what really happened… a lot of opportunists were just waiting for the chance to spin stories.

I wasn't ever going to let it get as bad for him as it had in fourth year. If I had it my way (and I _would_) Harry will be safe from public scrutiny for as long as I can manage it.

The Quidditch match

I knew it was going to happen…I mean I had half-hoped, with the extra safety features in his broom it wouldn't come to this, but still, I had know there was a chance that it would happen. Right now seeing Harry dangling from a piece of wood, thirty feet up in the air, I snapped. I could feel my magic seep out and seek the link that tied Harry's broom to someone in the teacher's stands. I could see the second link tied to Snape trying to weaken the first. I couldn't manipulate my magic into interfering with them- they were too well formed. Raw magic couldn't compete with properly structured spells. So I did the next best thing- block their view. A bunch of Slytherin and Gryffindor scarves went flying into the air. Circling the entire stadium, flickering across everyone's direct line of sight to Harry. The jinx broke. And while everyone was still muttering about the abnormal behavior of their scarves, (throwing a few dirty looks my way for good measure), Harry caught the snitch.

Why, oh why did I have to be such a short tempered idiot. I couldn't have just toppled Quirrell over discreetly… noooo, I had to turn the whole thing into a freaking circus act. What was I thinking? Oh, right… I wasn't. Well… all actions have consequences. Quirrell started paying a lot of attention to me in DADA classes after that. A few times I felt an odd sort of pressure against my head in his classes. The thought that Voldemort was trying to get into my head was nothing short of terrifying. If he ever succeeded in that, he will have won the war he didn't even know was coming. So the fate of the world rested on my ability to keep the Dark Lord himself out of my head, with little-to-no proper training in occlemency. No pressure.

In other news, I'd given up on trying to convince Harry that Snape is innocent. But I did occasionally point out how odd Quirrell's stutter is- it almost seems fake don't you think?- I dropped a few other hints too. Isn't it weird how Quirrell said the troll was in the dungeons and then it turned out to be on the third floor? It couldn't have gotten up there so fast… so why was Quirrell lying? What was he doing in the Dungeons on Halloween anyway? Wasn't his office on the sixth floor? That certainly gave Harry something to think about.

"No Hannah, we have to finish our assignment first!" Susan said sounding exasperated.

"But it's SNOWING! How could we possibly stay inside when it's the first snow of the season- on a SUNDAY no less! It's a message from the Gods I tell you! We have to go out!… Lyra, tell her we have to go out!" Hannah said, turning to me with wide tearing puppy eyes. Damn it- the girl was really good at the puppy eyes.

"Umm… well… I guess we could always finish the assignment after dinner?" I tried.

"YES! Two against one! Take that princess!" Hannah shouted out, doing a weird victory dance while pointing at Susan.

"Hmph… you give in far too easily, you know that?" Susan looked at me accusingly, "We're going to have to work on your resistance to her faux innocent looks" But then she got up to put on her scarf anyway.

I had decided to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. Partly because Harry wanted to stay and partly because I was still in the middle of researching on emotion manipulations through magic. I already had access to the restricted section thanks to Snape. Hemione had been salivating at the sight of my year long pass to the 'Forbidden Library'. At one point Harry, Hermione and Ron had come along begging for permission to look through it. When I asked him why he was suddenly interested in reading, he had (reluctantly) confessed Hagrid's slip up about Nicolas Flamel. I really should have known. I resisted the urge to whack myself on the head and told him he's an idiot and then point to the book Hermione was currently holding- 'for light reading' and told them to look through there in the Alchemy section. Needless to say they were all hilariously embarrassed… especially after Harry got another look at his chocolate frog card of Dumbledore.

Still, despite not needing to, when Christmas came Harry decided to wander around the school at night under his father's invisibility cloak. And once again he found the Mirror of Erised. He told me to meet him after dinner the next day so he could show me his family. I realized he was talking about the mirror, and despite my misgivings, I agreed. Would you really choose to walk away from a chance like this? A chance to find out what you truly desired and by extension, a chance to discover who you were.

In the mirror I see overlapping images, me as I was before being reborn- whole and happy with my parents smiling down at me-looking proud. My father was sober and happier than I'd ever seen him. This picture was faded though. Washed out. Imposed on that was another picture, vivid bright and more real. Me, as I am now, just older standing next to Harry, my parents behind us alongside another couple that I could only assume were Lily and James Potter, and all our friends were surrounding us. Instinctively I knew this image was free of the ghosts of the future. There was no Voldemort, no Hocruxes, no war. Harry was just like any other wizard (no lightning bolt scar), and I was just like any other witch (no memories of a previous life, no knowledge of a tremulous future).

"Can you see them?" Harry asked hesitantly. "Ron couldn't… but I thought maybe…"

I turned my attention to Lily and James again. They were smiling at me, and though they looked like strangers- I couldn't shake off the feeling that I knew them. I smiled back.

"You're mother is really pretty isn't she… you really do have her eyes… but everything else you got from you father- there's that same that untamable bird's nest you call hair" I remarked.

Harry let out a half-chocked sob, as he came and stood beside me. He stood leaning his head on my shoulder as we put our arms around each other's waists in a half hug and the mirror versions of us did the same.

"Hey Hagrid… nice dragon" I said.

"Lyra! What'r ya doin in here!" Hagrid exclaimed surprised and maybe a little panicked.

"I just came to drop by some of the homemade muffins my mum sent over for you" I said "Is there a problem?"

"Err… no… no problem" He appeared slightly confused(probably due my lack of any response to finding a baby dragon in his hut) "Thank yer mother for me wontcha"

"Will do!" I smiled back. "Oh and Hagrid? You wouldn't happen to need to go to the forest for anything next full moon night would you?"

"As a matter o'fact, I might, why'd ya ask?" He said.

"Oh, I just needed to go there to look for some potions ingredients, but Professor Snape said I could only go if I had adult supervision… and no one knows the forest better than you! So I was hoping maybe you wouldn't mind taking me along… I won't be any trouble!"

He chuckled "Sure ya can come along… it'll be the comin' Friday then?"

"Yes! Thank you Hagrid! You won't regret it! I promise!" I could barely contain myself. I could finally get the required ingredients to start with my experiments!

" I can't believe you were that stupid Draco! What were you thinking, reporting them for being out after curfew while you were doing the same!" I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time" He mumbled.

Harry snickered.

"You're not really one to talk Harry! You could've just told McGonagall or Dumbledore- Its not like they'd throw Hagrid out over it!" I said.

"Didn't think of that" It was Harry's turn to mumble.

Draco snickered.

"Boys!" I couldn't help the eye-rolling. "idiots, both of you"

"Why are _you_ here anyway?" Draco asked.

" Potion ingredients, full moon, duh!"

"Hmph… What kind of person volunteers to go out into the bloody Forbidden forest in the night, just for a bunch of potion ingredients" Malfoy sneered.

"My kind… and again- duh!"

Before he could make another come back, Harry gasped in pain, dropping the lantern he was holding up and clutching his forehead. In front of us was a small clearing … with the dead unicorn… and the monster that killed it. Draco panicked and screamed at the sight, but instead of running like he had in the books, he looked towards me, then back towards the road we had come from and then me again. As if he couldn't choose which way to go. I immediately sent up sparks so Hagrid would know where to find us and gave Draco a firm nod. That seemed to calm him down a bit. Harry was still in pain though- and the centaur that was supposed to step in right about now was nowhere to be seen. But then again with three of us there the monster seemed reluctant to attack. As I stepped forward to confront it-it just fled.

The sight of the dead unicorn was so sad , it was painful to look at. And while we watched and waited for Hagrid to turn up, a foal came out from behind the bushes and walked up to the corpse. It was a tiny little thing- barely up to my waist, with a short stub for a horn and a golden coat of hair. Harry and Draco looked equally stricken at the sight. I can only imagine that I wore an expression to match theirs.

The dead unicorn was probably her mother.

I walked up slowly up to the young foal…. She didn't move away, so I started petting her- she let me. There were tears in her eyes. Such sorrow, such grief, such pure remorse. I instinctively knew the tears were special.

I mentally asked for permission to take them- and to my surprise, I received and equally muted mental response in return. The baby unicorn tilted her head to look at me, she almost looked like she was nodding her accent. I took out a vial and held it out to her. It quickly filled up with shimmering drops of liquid silver. Just as Hagrid walked in there with Hermione and Neville.

They took in the scene with sad eyes. With nothing left to do we started to head back to the castle… the foal followed us

"Probably has no one left now that her mum's gone" Hagrid explained.

I almost cried when we reached Hogwarts and the foal tried to follow me into the castle. I told her to stay with Hagrid, and promised I'd be back first thing in the morning to see her. She seemed to understand what I was saying, but she didn't want to stay back- she was tearing up again. I felt another mental nudge. There were no words but a desperate fear that seemed to be screaming at me not to leave her alone.

Screw the rules, she was coming with me.

I'd deal with the Professors in the morning.

Hagrid just shrugged and nodded. "I'll still make a shelter for her by the forest, in case she needs it".

Thanks Hagrid I hugged the friendly giant.

Then I hugged Harry and Hermione goodnight and headed down towards the dungeons with Draco and the foal

"Careful little foal" I said as we neared the staircase

She just snorted and started down the steps with enviable grace.

"Aren't you going to… you know name her?" Draco asked.

"Hmm… do you have a name?" I asked the baby unicorn.

Confused… she didn't understand what names were.

Draco looked at me as if I were insane for talking to the little unicorn

"She's communicating with me somehow" I shrugged

"Huh- like a familiar?" he looked surprised

"Maybe… I don't know much about familiars" I confessed.

"They're just animals with high intelligence that have a close bond with a witch or wizard of their choosing. Sometimes they can communicate telepathically with their bonded- although that's rare. I hear Dumbledore has a phoenix familiar" He said with grudging admiration

"Hmm…What would you like to be called?"

Confusion again. She still didn't get what I was talking about.

She had such big wide black-brown eyes, like a baby deer's- " I know what to call you- Bambi"


	9. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer**- I don't own Harry Potter, I'm not gaining anything from this story (except personal satisfaction)

**AN-** Thank You so much for reading this! Dedicating this chapter to everyone that left a review :)

**Chapter 15- First Year (part III)**

**Hogwarts Castle-April-1992  
Age 12**

**Susan's POV**

I admit- it might have been my fault.

I mean Hannah _did_ say we should stay up till Lyra gets back. I thought she was being paranoid. Sure the blond had gone to the forbidden forest at night- but it's not like she'd wandered off there alone. She had Hagrid there at least- there was no reason to be so worried about her…and it had been a long day, I was tired.

So waking up to a baby unicorn in my bed and a camera flash that came from Hannah's general direction was probably my penance for not acting Hufflepuff enough.

Or so I'm assuming.

Because rationally- I can't think of anything I might have done to deserve this.

The rest of the day did sort of make up for it. It was a Saturday with no classes, which made for a pleasant lazy mood to begin with. To top that off, watching people reactions to a little unicorn wandering around in the hallways, following Lyra like a lost puppy, was quite amusing.

That is until we reached the great hall for breakfast. How exactly was Lyra planning to explain little Bambi's presence to the staff? I shared a brief worried glance with Hannah, hoping she had a clue- going by the confused expression on her face, I would have to guess not. I looked to Lyra, trying to see if she would hesitate or pause before entering the hall- nothing… she walked right in like it was just another day. It's like she was oblivious to the fact that she was breaking school rules…in broad daylight… in the great hall… in front of the entire student body and staff.

She better have a plan.

The hall started hushing up as soon as we walked in. A couple of people got up from the seats further down the hall to get a better look at the shiny golden foal that was trotting down the aisle between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables like it belonged there.

Before anyone could say anything, we were already seated and stuffing ourselves, while every thirty seconds or so either Lyra or Hannah held out a carrot stick or an apple, or anything green they could get their hands on towards little Bambi, who gobbled it all up like nobody's business.

Five minutes into the meal I finally gathered enough courage to look up from my plate to see how the Professors were taking my friend's recent foray into magical animals' husbandry.

My eyes were drawn, as always, to the Headmaster first. He was conversing with Hagrid over Professor Flitwick's head. Hagrid attempted to be explaining something, with a lot of exaggerated hand gestures. Every few seconds Dumbledore glanced our way with a fond and amused smile. Snape looked … exasperated. Like he'd given up trying to make sense of things… I could have sworn his lips twitched into something resembling a smile when he looked up at Lyra though.

Snape… smile?

Right… Must have been a trick of the light.

McGonagall look vaguely appalled and made to get up to come towards us several times, but was held back by Professor Sprout, who seemed to be following Hagrid and Dumbledore's conversation intently.

Quirrell was looking towards Lyra with an oddly blank expression, but when his gaze turned to Bambi, _something_ sparked in his eyes. I felt a chill go down my spine. For a second I looked around to check if someone had cast a spell in my direction- or was that just my imagination again?

* * *

**Lyra's POV**

It was so easy. Break rules with a straight face and a somewhat altruistic reason – and they wouldn't do a thing to stop you. Should have figured that from all of Harry's 'future' experiences.

In any case- as generous as the Professors were about ignoring a baby unicorn in the hallways- I knew it wouldn't last forever. And sure enough- a week into Bambi's stay Professor Sprout called me into her office.

"But she's perfectly well behaved Professor- she hasn't caused any trouble at all!"

"Be that as it may Miss Addison, It is against school rules… I'm sorry child, but it's best for everyone if you just let Hagrid take care of her…"

Bambi started whining , she was agitated- clearly she knew exactly what Sprout was trying to say here.

"I can't!" I snapped.

"Miss Addison!" She looked a little surprised by my curt behavior.

"No Professor, you don't understand!" I tried to explain it the best way I could. "There is… something… out there in the forest killing unicorns for their blood! I brought Bambi away from the protection of the forest… It may not have been my intention to do so, but I've made her more vulnerable to the threat by bringing so much attention to her!" This fact had been torturing me for days now. How could I have been so stupid! I didn't even realize my mistake until I caught sight of that stuttering poser's expression the morning after the fiasco in the forest. And I hadn't let Bambi out of my sight since.

"Oh my! I-I hadn't thought of that…" Sprout said, looking greatly disturbed by my implication that Bambi might be in such danger.

See that's the thing about unicorns. They were such pure and guileless creatures that you can't help but fall in love with them. They radiated an aura of unrestrained, unconditional love and acceptance. The younger the unicorn, the stronger the aura. And Bambi was young enough that I had to ask for help from the upper years to keep people from crowding her too often. And they were only too glad to help. She had become something of an unofficial school mascot.

"Professor… I know Hogwarts is supposed to be the safest place in the wizarding world…" I am still proud that I managed to say that with a straight face, "But Bambi is becoming my familiar… I can't risk leaving her out on the open grounds, so close to the forest …" I could see by the expression on her face that I had her convinced, but before I could lay out my proposal to just let things be, we were interrupted.

"You familiar you say" Came the Headmaster's soothing voice.

I turned to see Professor Dumbledore walking in to my Head of House's office.

"Pardon my intrusion, but I couldn't help but overhead part of you conversation" he nodded in greeting to Professor Sprout and then turned to look directly to me "Miss Addison, are you certain that this little unicorn is your familiar?"

"Well… I'm as sure as I can be, given the facts. But it would help if I had some way to confirm it even to myself… I'm still not entirely certain what having a familiar entails, Professor," I told him as honestly as I could. Bambi was fidgeting by my side, but I felt a sense of approval and sadness directed at the Headmaster, I put the curious feeling aside to examine for later.

"Hmm… how intriguing" He looked at me with the joyous curiosity that reminded me of a seven year old Harry with a new toy. "Tell me Miss Addison have you been experiencing any strange surges of emotion? Feeling that you are certain were not your own?"

"Yes I have… I assume they were coming from Bambi?"

"Yes, so it would appear" he stated with a smile. "And another simple test… If you could hold out you hand my dear"

I did as he instructed. Then before I could comprehend what he was he was doing he cut my palm open with a small pocket knife.

"Yee-ouch!"

Where the hell had that come from! It wasn't a deep cut- but that still hurt you damned old goat! Thankfully, before I could voice my indignant and rather rude opinion- I noticed that the wound was already healing.

OMG It's like I have the f-ing Kyubi in me!

"P-professor?"

"Yes my dear?" He looked amused. AMUSED.

"What just happened?" I asked. My voice sounding remarkably calm, given the rush of ideas and theories assaulting my mind.

"A familiar bond has certain, shall we say… benefits… that come with it. My own bond to my phoenix, Fawkes has granted me a longer a life span than most people. During my travels, I had the good fortune of meeting many others bonded to familiars. A bond to a dragon gives one a remarkable resistance to fire, a bond to a demiguise can turn the bonded invisible at will and though I have only heard rumours of this before today- apparently, a bond to a unicorn heals any of the bonded's injuries at an unprecedented pace."

I could feel a twitch coming.

"So you cut up my palm to test out a rumour?" I said in a deadpan. In my periphery I could make out Sprout's own surprisingly impressive glare that was aimed at the oblivious old man.

"Yes" He nodded with a smile. Yup, still oblivious.

"Does this mean Bambi can stay?" I asked exasperated.

"No, I'm afraid it is still against school rules to allow a unicorn within the walls. She is far too distracting," He stated in a no nonsense voice.

Another twitch. I don't get it… then what was the whole point of proving Bambi was my familiar?

"But this does make things simpler" He stated before I could voice my protest.

"How so Professor?" I asked.

"A simple spell my dear, a protection spell that relies on the strength of the bond between the caster and the protected… If you succeed in casting the spell on your familiar- no one with ill intentions can approach her so long as your magical power is greater than theirs… and from what I have seen of you so far Miss Addison- power will never be a problem"

I blushed while trying to cover my discomfort over the compliment. The source of my power was still something I actively avoided trying to think too hard about.

"Will you teach me the spell Professor?"

And that's how I ended up with detention after dinner every day for a week in the Headmasters office until I mastered the spell and Bambi was finally moved into the shed Hagrid had constructed for her by the pumpkin patch.

The time spent with Dumbledore had been… enlightening. I discovered from our short conversations in-between instructions that he had learned of my little potions project from Snape and was conflicted over it. I was surprised when he told me that as impressed as he was with my ambition- the potential uses for the potion disturbed him. He disagreed with my method. "Remorse," He said "Would have no meaning if it weren't honest". Eventually though, he did concede to the same argument I presented to Snape- this potion could potentially be used to reform men that have lost their way. He didn't like that a first year was working on something so dangerous- but he never attempted to dissuade me from completing the potion. I kept wondering why he was being so honest with me. Until one day he gave me the answer himself.

"You remind me of my sister Miss Addison, she was such an inquisitive child. Quiet, Studious, Ambitious, yes, but so very selfless about it… and powerful… she was incredibly powerful… until…" And for one unguarded moment his face truly reflected his age. He never completed that sentence, and I never asked him too. I think he appreciated my discretion- and the thought made my guts twist in guilt. I hadn't held my silence out of respect for him or his sister- I had done it, because I already knew their story. I felt like I was betraying his confidence without doing a thing.

For years now I had had a recurring nightmare. I would stand in middle of a circle, surrounded by all the people I loved. It started out innocently enough. They were celebrating- It was my birthday and they were singing for me. I would open my mouth to thank them- except it wasn't my voice that came out- It was _hers_. The girl I had been before life (or was it death?) granted me a second chance. And then one by one my loved ones lost the look of adoration as it turned to confusion and then disgust. They hurled accusations at me- _'Liar', 'Traitor', 'How could you?', 'What did you do to her?', ' Where's my daughter?', '__**Where is Lyra?**__'_

Ever since I had come to Hogwarts the nightmares had been getting worse. First it had just been my parents and Harry. Now there was a whole crowd of people thinking I was someone I was not. Draco, Hermione, Susan, Hannah, Ron, Neville, Professor Sprout, Professor Snape, and a dark haired man whose face I couldn't see-but I could feel (as surely as I could feel my heart break under the weight of their accusations) was Sirius Black, the man whom even now was paying the heaviest price for my silence. And now when I returned to my nightly penance- Dumbledore's face joined the rest- his cold disappointed gaze tore at me as terribly as any words ever could.

* * *

Before I knew it- it was already the end of the year. The last day of the exams arrived. Dumbledore left the school for urgent business to the ministry, Harry, Ron and Hermione ran up to McGonagall with their suspicions- which she immediately rejected.

And then the story deviated.

Harry came up to me- and told me everything he knew about what he thought was going on.

I agreed to meet them by the third floor corridor at night.

I was, to be completely honest- fairly useless to the whole endeavor. Harry played the flute Hagrid gifted him as soon as we entered Fluffy's room. Hermione freed us from the tendrils before I could remember the spell for it, Harry caught the key to the next door, Ron played our way across the chess board, Hermione figured out the riddle.

Honestly, by the time we got to the room with the potions I was really annoyed.

When Hermione stated only one of us could go through to the next room, I'd had enough.

"Hermione, go back to Ron, make sure he's okay, and call for help, I'm following Harry through that door" I stated.

"But, there isn't enough-"

"I don't need the potion", I interrupted her, casting a flame freezing charm on myself and my clothes "Just go! I'll make sure he's okay"

Hermione's eyes widened as she recognized the spell I cast as one that wouldn't be taught to us until third year. Then she gave us a final determined nod and swallowed her potion and walked out the way we came.

"Ready?" Harry asked.

"Not one bit"

And then before I could change my mind we walked in through the flames.

Despite all my efforts to make him look suspicious, Harry was still surprised to see the inept Defense Professor standing in front of the mirror.

"Ah, I wondered if I'd be seeing you here Mr. Potter, Miss Addison." Said the man with two faces.

Something wasn't right. Quirrell looked incredibly pale and weak. Was he supposed to look this washed out? Shouldn't the unicorn blood have-

That thought made my blood freeze in my veins. The unicorn blood.

In cannon- he had been interrupted and fled when Firenze had come to Harry's rescue- no baby unicorn was mentioned. Why didn't Bambi come out to her mother's body in cannon? She hadn't been scared of us- that unicorn wasn't afraid of anyone. So why didn't she come out?

He killed her.

A young foal's blood had significantly more power than an adult's. He hadn't killed her this time- he was much weaker than in cannon.

He hadn't killed her this time. He hadn't killed her. I kept repeating this thought to myself, trying to calm the rage that this moment of epiphany left me in.

While I was busy gathering my thoughts, Voldemort had already made his big turban-removing-reveal.

If I had to make a guess- he didn't have enough power to actually fight us- even if we were just a couple of first years. So he would try to intimidate us instead.

Voldemort's red eyes looked straight into Harry's as he offered to bring back his parents if he joined him, and then surprisingly, he turned to me and looked into my eyes.

I felt his attempt at entering my mind. It was much more aggressive than before. My head felt like it was being pounded on by an anvil. Repeatedly.

It was too much. It hurt too much.

But my walls didn't give way.

I could see the growing frustration on his snake-like face. It changed gradually from annoyance to outright anger.

And then came the final blow- this was different from his previous attempts- his mind surrounded mine like a gentle mist, and then without a breath of warning he dug into it from all directions at the same time- Like knives into flesh. I couldn't hold back my scream if I tried.

Hearing me shout propelled Harry into action. But instead of going for his wand he physically lunged at Quirrell.

All I remember before I fainted was a roaring scream and the smell of burning flesh.


End file.
